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kinardsevan · 15 hours ago

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this love will take my everything

(aka the follow-up to maybe, someday, love) cw: hospitalization, helicopter crash, related injuries; word count: 2069 (not cross-posted to ao3...yet)

“Can I go up with you?”

Tommy turns in his spot just outside his helicopter, and his eyes fall on that beautiful man. Recent time has been awful in his absence, and even though everything inside of him is telling him he should say no—that they’d gone their separate ways on purpose—the other half of him aches to be closer.

“How’d you find me here,” he asks before turning back toward the inside of the helicopter, continuing to work through his pre-flight checklist.

“Had a hunch,” Evan answers, his voice drawing closer with footsteps that suggest he’s crossing the space between them. ��Knew you wouldn’t be at work, and your truck wasn’t in your driveway. No lights on. Besides…” He pauses, his voice much closer now, and standing close enough that Tommy can feel his body heat emanating. “Anytime you have a bad shift, you fly.”

Tommy gulps as he finishes zipping up the first aid bag after checking and rechecking it’s contents. He leans out of the cockpit and Evan is standing so close that he immediately smells mahogany and teakwood with a lingering undercurrent of lavender. It stirs something in his chest and gut simultaneously; the scent that so easily drove him insane anytime he got near the other man, nevermind when they were actually in the shower together.

This close together, he can see the individual lines of those watermelon-pink lips, the curve of the port wine stain below his eyebrow, and how it’s just the slightest bit darker than its counterpart above the eyebrow. He swallows again as he tugs the bag off the seat and Evan steps aside, allowing him access to the open storage compartment. Tommy shoves he bag in and puts the lid down, locking it in.

“What’re you doing here, Buck,” he asks, his voice low, weary. He doesn’t have the energy for banter or excuses right now. Because E- Buck is right. He always flies after a bad shift, and the one he’d come off of earlier in the day seemed to be one of those where nothing could go right. Every call he went up for seemed to end in tragedy, and there were too many young people not having good outcomes for his heart to take when it was already so tough to face a world where Evan Buckley wasn’t in his bed at the end of the night.

“I want to talk to you,” Evan tells him. He gestures towards the helicopter. “Which is why I asked if I could go up with you. Maybe I can finally cash in on those flying lessons.”

A silent, humorless laugh slips out of Tommy’s mouth before he can stop it. There are so many things they seemed to have talked about doing before the break-up, that he never got around to doing.

“Look, Buck-..”

“First and foremost would be that you never call me that again,” Evan states, pointing an index finger at Tommy. “It just feels dirty.”

Tommy lets out a sigh, staring at him for a long moment. Everything in him is telling him to say no. Being that close to the one person he’s single-handledly sure he’s never loved anyone more than in a cramped space where neither of them can escape feels like a terrible idea; it feels like the simplest way to destroy every ounce of resolve he has to maintain space and let the other man figure things out, move on long enough to realize that Tommy isn’t his endgame.

And yet.

He’s weak, and just a man, and…

“Okay.”

Evan grins at him, and then he’s rushing around the helicopter to the passenger side, climbing into the seat and buckling in, pulling on the headset. Tommy moves slower, but he’s in the other seat fairly quickly still, making his final pre-flight checks before he starts the engine.

“This is pilot Kinard in Robinson four zero six two four asking for checking clearance for take-off,” he calls out over the line.

“Good afternoon, pilot. Can you please relay your coordinates? Tower over.”

Tommy reads them back, and a moment later, they’ve cleared him. He starts to lift the chopper into the air, and then checks in a few times as they gain altitude before switching the line over so it’s just him and Evan in communication inside the helicopter. Plus, for all the things that could be said about the fact that he shouldn’t have let the other man into the chopper with him, he can’t exactly complain. Evan has always understood when he just needs time to be in the air; time to get out of his head.

He doesn’t have a destination in mind as they move further into airspace. He keeps them at an even altitude, flying further inland over Los Angeles. Roughly twenty minutes pass before Evan finally speaks.

“So I think you made a mistake,” Evan comments. “Actually, I think you’re an idiot, but that’s neither here nor there.”

Tommy shoots a glance in his direction, raising his eyebrows at him. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” Evan replies through the headset. “You ended things prematurely. A-and don’t get me wrong, I jumped the gun as I’m prone to do. But you got one taste of a real future with me and bolted like the concept of that future was absolutely impossible.”

“Evan-..”

“No, let me finish,” he states, turning more towards Tommy. The other man has no other option or recourse, given that he still has to focus on keeping them in the air.

“As I was saying. You decided all of these things for the two of us without ever giving me a chance for input. You- you decided that we couldn’t have a future based on… on what? Past experiences with other people? Someone else’s statistical bullshit? What does any of that have to do with how I feel about you?”

Tommy takes a deep, frustrated breath, glancing over at Evan again.

“Look, you’re unsure of-..”

“Okay, seriously? Stop,” Evan states, the lightness in his tone gone. Finally, Tommy thinks. The reality is sinking in.

“I’m not a fucking child,” Evan growls at him. “Maybe I figured out I was bisexual a few months ago instead of years ago, but I know how it feels to fall in love with someone. A-and okay, maybe I should’ve considered my words more wisely that night, b-but the points were all still there.”

“Really?” Tommy asks, looking over at him again, eyebrows raised. HIs tone is judgmental, challenging. “They were?”

“Something else you have to complain about, about what I said,” Evan asks him in an accusatory tone.

“Oh I don’t know, Evan. You asked me to move into your loft when I own my home,” Tommy tells him. “A house, with a two stall garage and three bedrooms. A car lift, and enough room to spar. Where was all of that going to go?”

“S-so I jumped the gun!” Evan argues. “Sue me! I was excited, a-and-..”

“And you were talking about my sexuality like I’m some kind of trailblazer for gay people,” Tommy counters. “You think I sound crazy for telling you that you’re still figuring things out when you were throwing moving in together, engagement and marriage at me ten seconds after telling me that our mutual ex was “transformative” for you.” He pauses for a second, as though the thought only occurs to him afterward. “Oh, at least until me.”

“And I meant every damn word,” Evan tells him. “I didn’t tell you I wanted those things because I didn’t understand the concept of what I was asking, or because I need to go fuck other people to figure myself out, Tommy. I said the relationship was transformative because it was. A-Abby… Abby made me want to get my shit together and stop making reckless choices to sleep with anything that moved just to get some kind of validation.”

Tommy’s expression softens just a little as he looks over at Evan, hears him explain his actions. Evan sinks back against the seat slightly, his own resolve folding under the honesty of everything he’s saying.

“W-when I said until you, it didn’t have a damn thing to do with your gender or my sexuality,” he rasps. “It was because for the first time in my life, I realized that I didn’t want to wake up next to anyone else for the rest of my life. I didn’t- I didn’t-..”

“You said you admired me,” Tommy tells him, although his tone is much softer.

Evan nods, inhaling a shaky breath. “You’re right. I did; which is true, by the way. B-but, also be-because historically, saying I love you has not worked out for me very well,” he rasps. Tommy inhales a sharp breath, letting it out in stunted exhales.

“And you don’t get to tell me that I don’t understand what it means to be in love with someone,” Evan rasps, his voice full of gravel and insistent as his eyelids burn red and brim with tears. “I picked you, and maybe- maybe I didn’t spell it out the right way. B-but the bones of it were there.”

Tommy gulps, nods at Evan’s statement. He’s not wrong, and there’s a lot to be said in response to it, but doing it in the air when his attention is split doesn’t exactly feel like the right option. He glances around them through the window. They’ve made it out of LA County and into the mountains. He needs to find a place to set them down, or circle back, but that’s going to take another half an hour that he doesn’t really want to wait on.

“Look, there’s more I want to say on all of this, but I need to get us on the ground,” Tommy states, starting to turn the helicopter. He reaches across the dash, flips the channel back over so there’s communication with air traffic, and asks for an open space to set them down. When he doesn’t get a response back, he sends calls back through again, only to receive silence once more.

“Something wrong,” Evan asks, trying to keep his concern from being too obvious.

Tommy glances across the dash, pushing a few buttons for the comms, but nothing changes. He huffs, resolves to just get them closer to home, but that’s when all hell breaks loose.

Suddenly, the dash lights up across the board, flashing in all different shades and blaring different noises. Evan and Tommy both shoot up straight in their seats.

“W-what’s happening,” Evan stammers, panic high in his tone now. “Tommy?”

Tommy waves a hand at him dismissively, trying to go down the troubleshooting checklist in his head. Evan turns in his seat, digging for the manual and finding it behind Tommy’s seat after a moment. He pulls it out and flips over to the troubleshooting list.

“Rotor blades?” He asks, looking over at Tommy, who shakes his head in response. “Throttle? Battery master switch?”

Tommy looks over at him, forcing a long breath out of his lungs in a desperate attempt to calm himself.

“Evan, honey, please. I’m already down to Oil pressure.”

Evan looks over at him and then back down at the list, realizing that Tommy is far beyond what he even needs him to read based on his own knowledge of the helicopter.

“Fuck!” Tommy yells over the comms. Evan looks over at him, sees the worry seeping into Tommy’s expression.

“What?”

Tommy gulps and looks over at him. “We’re losing altitude.”

“W-what can I- h-how-..”

“We need comms,” Tommy says. “The backup-..”

Evan reaches for it in the space between them and turns it on, switching through the channels until he finds the one they usually use while on-shift.

“T-this is off-duty firefighter Evan Buckley-..”

“And Pilot Kinard,” Tommy adds. Evan holds out the radio towards him, keeping the button down, hoping they’re being heard on the open line. “We’re somewhere over the county line between Cucamonga Peak and San Bernadino National Forest. We’re losing altitude.” He glances down at the dash quickly and reads off the coordinates. “B-best I can guess is… total engine failure.”

Voices come back over the line, cutting over one another and trying to ask more questions that neither of them has time to answer. Tommy keeps looking back and forth out of the window, trying to figure out the best option for landing, but neither is good. On his side, they have mountains, and on Evan’s, they have the forest. Both could kill them, whether through fire or just the injuries alone, and he doesn’t love either.

“We’re under three thousand feet,” he states, his voice tight as he reaches his right hand across the center console and squeezes Evan’s hand tightly. His jaw is tight as he looks over at him, the worry and panic clear in his eyes. “I w-…this isn’t-…” He lifts his hand to the back of Evan’s head, squeezing the back of his neck. “I love you too, Evan.”

He lets go of him just as quickly and has both hands back on the cyclic, suddenly jerking the helicopter to one side.

Seconds later, they’re on the ground.

. . .

Sal yawns as he walks towards Bobby, some ten feet away from where he’s just come out Tommy’s room. He’s hardly a fan of the older man, even after all the time that has passed, but somehow they’ve found a way to work together when they’ve been forced to work the same scenes.

“Any change on the kid,” he asks, looking into the room. Inside the room, Eddie and Maddie are both at his bedside, talking quietly from what he can tell.

Bobby shakes his head, looking across the small circular area toward Tommy’s room where Chimney has gone to take his turn. “What about Tommy?”

Sal shrugs. “Still struggling to come off sedation. But he’s not seizing, so…”

Bobby nods, turning and looking back into Buck’s room. Neither man made it out in one piece, but current circumstances certainly seem to be pointing more toward the younger man faring worse. From the intracranial pressure and brain bleeds they’ve been watching like a hawk, to the broken hip, all the internal bleeding, not to mention the myriad of stitches coating his body from head to toe.

“They said they found them on the forest floor,” Bobby comments. “That it was a miracle neither one of them ended up impaled by tree branches.”

Sal nods. He glances over at Bobby. “You think they would’ve survived if he’d taken the mountainside?”

“I mean I’m no pilot,” Bobby responds, his voice tight. “But.”

Across the room, the sound monitors starting to race emits, and several nurses shoot out of their chairs at the station, rushing into a room they quickly realize is Tommy’s. They both exchange a look and then rush across the semi-circle layout, only to bump into Chimney as he’s pushed from the room.

“What happened,” Sal practically growls.

Chimney only shakes his head as he looks at the taller man.

“I was just talking to him,” he comments. “A- he-…”

They all stand there, flooded with anxiety, trying to make out what’s happening around the nurses and doctors inside the room, until finally, the monitors go quiet due to someone turning the sound off. Slowly then, they start to dissipate, and the three of them watch with trepidation, until finally enough of them are out of the way or have left the room, and they can see Tommy.

The ventilator is gone, replaced by an oxygen mask, and his eyes are open.

“He’s awake.”

#sloth writes #bucktommy #mini fic #tumblr fic #tevan #kinley #firepilot #firebeast #the ally and the beast #crash that helicopter

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dysphoresque · 10 months ago

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— James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room

Text ID: Sometimes I thought / but this is your life. Stop fighting it. Stop fighting. Or I thought / I will never let him touch me again. Then / when he touched me / I thought / it doesn't matter / it is only the body / it will soon be over. When it was over / I lay in the dark and listened to his breathing / and dreamed of the touch of hands / of Giovanni's hands / or anybody's hands / hands which will have the power to crush me / and make me whole again.

#giovannis room #james baldwin #quotes #lit #classic lit #touch repulsion #touch starved #feeling dirty #i want to escape this dirty world this dirty body #you want to be clean #no one can understand how much i love this book

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s0dium · 5 months ago

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𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐈𝐓

Warning: Phone sex, masturbation, male masturbation, orgasms, dirty talk, praises, fantasizing, he talks you through it, men being vocal

"You listening baby?"

The phone pressed against your ear crackles with the sound of his voice, each word dripping with a sultry warmth that sends shivers down your spine. Fuck, you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning at his voice.

You hum in response and he chuckles. "Good. M' thinking about you, miss you so much." He whispers. His deep, velvety tones wrap around you, making your mind hazy and your breath hitch. Every whisper, every chuckle reverberates through you, igniting a fire deep within. The world around you fades away, leaving only the intoxicating melody of his voice, and the undeniable, electric pull of desire.

"Miss you too," you breathe, your voice barely a whisper, "Miss you so much."

His laugh is low, teasing, and it sends a shiver down your spine. "Oh god, you're so cute," he murmurs, his tone laced with a playful edge that makes your heart race. "You know what I'd be doing if you were here right now?"

You swallow hard, your mind already spinning with the possibilities. "N-no," you stammer, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

"I'd probably kiss your neck," he purrs, the words making your pulse quicken. "Suck on the spot that makes you whine. You're so cute when you whine, you know that?"

Your breath catches, his vivid descriptions flooding your mind and making you weak. You feel your abdomen clench from the surge of arousal coursing your body. The fabric of your underwear feels cool against your skin, certainly from your arousal.

"I'd also touch your boobs, God, I miss your boobs, your cute nipples, hey," he pauses, his words trailing off as if he is thinking deeply about something.

The phone pressed against your ear hums softly with the weight of his presence, his voice a low, sultry whisper that sends chills down your spine. "Can you do something for me?" he asks.

"Yeah?" Your voice trembles, a mixture of anticipation and excitement.

"Can you touch your breasts for me? Tell me how it feels?" His words are a gentle command, wrapping around you and making your heart race.

"I-" You hesitate, your breath hitching as your mind spins with the intimate request.

"Don't worry, baby," he soothes, his voice like velvet, smooth and reassuring. "I'll guide you through it."

With shaky hands, you set the phone down and put him on speaker, the room filling with the rich, tantalizing sound of his voice. You slip your hand under your shirt, your fingers grazing your skin, already sensitive and warm.

"Start at your chest," he instructs, his tone sending shivers down your spine. "Feel your heartbeat, how fast it's racing. That's for me."

Your breath comes in short, sharp bursts as you follow his words, your fingers brushing lightly over your chest. The sensation is electric, every touch heightened by his voice.

"Now, slowly move your hands up," he continues, his voice a dark caress. "cup your breasts, feel how soft and warm it is."

You do as he says, your mind hazy with desire, your body reacting to every sultry word. You have to rub your legs together to get some sort of relief. Your fingers knead at your skin, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through you.

"Imagine it's me touching you," he murmurs, his voice thick with longing. "My hands on your skin, my lips following the path of your fingers."

A soft moan escapes your lips, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. His voice, so confident and alluring, guides you through each sensation, making you feel connected despite the distance.

"Now move up a little and touch your nipples" he whispers, his voice like a seductive melody. "two fingers, rub them for me, let yourself feel it. Let yourself want it."

You let out a sharp gasp when you start to tweak your nipples with your index finger and thumb. The pleasure is warm, but electric, almost ticklish.

"You can flick them baby, do whatever makes you feel good."

Your fingers obey, flicking your sensitive nubs up and down lightly, each movement fast and deliberate. The air around you seems to thicken with anticipation, every nerve in your body attuned to his voice and the sensations it evokes.

"You're doing so well," he praises, his voice a dark purr. "Imagine my hands there, touching you. Imagine my lips around your nipples, sucking and tasting and tasting your skin."

A whimper escapes your lips, the vivid images he conjures sending waves of heat through your body. You are desperate now, crossing your legs tightly and rubbing your legs for an ounce of relief from your own ministrations.

"How do you feel baby?"he murmurs, his voice wrapping around you like a silken thread

"Horny." You whine.

He chuckles. "I know, me to baby me too."

You don't know it but he is brutally understanding his predicament. He has to set his phone down and put you on speaker so he can rub his dick that his straining against the fabric of his crotch. But that isn't enough. With a sharp sigh, he pulls out his dick from his confines.

"Hey," his voice is shaky, cracky with pleasure. "Why don't you slip a hand under your underwear"

With a shaky side of relief you bridge, slipping your hand under your panties and dragging a finger between your pussy lips, collecting the juices of your arousal

"How does it feel."

"Wet." You murmur. "Im so wet."

He lets out a throaty groan at your words and slowly drags his hand up his shaft. The pleasure is immediate, but the relief is not enough. He needs more.

"Feel how warm you are," he coos. Shit, he's having a hard time not just fisting himself aggressively right here and now. But he will go slow, he will take his time with you. Because he knows it will be worth it. "Feel how your body responds to me, even from afar. It's like I am touching you, pretty girl. Why don't you start touching your clit for me too?"

Without an ounce of hesitation, you press your index finger to your clit the sensation making you gasp. The warmth of your own touch, combined with the intoxicating sound of his voice, sends a rush of pleasure through you.

"That's it," he coos, his voice a gentle command. "Now start lightly rubbing it. Imagine it's me, my fingers, my mouth, bringing you pleasure."

You follow his words, your fingers lightly tracing over your sensitive nub a soft moan escaping your lips. Unbeknownst to you, he is right there with you, slowly dragging his closed hand up and down his length. The pleasure is almost ticklish, it makes his toes curl and his world narrows down to this moment, your soft sighs and the overwhelming desire coursing through him. Pre cum dribbles down from his angry tip and he uses the sticky liquid to speed up his ministrations. You do something similar, using the wetness of your arousal to speed up your finger, letting your body acclimated to each eave of pleasure before feeding it more.

"Good girl," he practically chokes, he is not a whining man but here he is, his voice taught and raspy. "Let yourself feel it. Let me hear how much you want this. Say my name baby say name."

The rhythm of your fingers quickens and you let his name fall from your lips like a prayer, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His voice, a constant presence, pushes you closer and closer to the edge, practically guiding you to what would most certainly be a euphoric grave.

"That's it," he whispers, his voice like a dark caress. "Let yourself go, baby. Let yourself feel everything. I'm right here with you."

You are close and he is too. Now you can hear the fap fap fap of his masturbation over the phone, pushing you closer to the edge. Jesus, you felt good, so good. Your skin is on fire, your mind hazy and string with pleasure, you need him so bad, fuck you need him inside of you, fucking you until you are crying. Oh god you need friction, you need his dick thrusting in and out of your walls like he hates you. You can feel your hole spasm at the thought, each time you clench it sends more waves of pleasure through your body.

"Ah~ Ah~ Ah~" You gasp. You're practically panting from how hot you feel right now.

"I'm so proud of you," he breathes, his voice filled with emotion. "You're so beautiful, so perfect. Let go for me, baby. Let yourself feel it."

He is entirely bothered, his hair tousled and his eyes blown with lust has he furiously fists his dick with fevor. His fist will never subsitute for the warmth of your cunt, in fact, he is angry he could even think that.

“Mmmm, mmm mhm” he whimpers. Your name is on the tip of his tongue, but he can barely speak so much as think. There’s a tingly warm feeling building in his stomach, the pleasure is overtaking him. "L-let yourself go, baby. Let yourself feel everything. I'm right here with you."

With a final, desperate gasp, you surrender to the sensations your body trembling with release. Euphoria crashes down on you like a sledge hammer and your left moaning and whining for him.

With a groan of his own, he follows suit, his back bending like a bow and thick ropes of cum pouring out from his dick like a fountain.

As you both come down from the high, your body still humming with the aftershocks, his voice remains a comforting presence. "I love you," he murmurs softly, the words a gentle caress. "You're everything to me."

A smile spreads across your face, your heart swelling with affection and contentment. "I love you too," you whisper.

GETO, GOJO, TOJI, YUUTA, NANAMI, CHOSO

#jjk smut #gojo smut #geto smut #toji smut #yuuta smut #nanami smut #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #sukuna x reader #jjk x you

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redcherrykook · 29 days ago

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──𐙚 bad boy, good girl / highschool sweet♡s

────୨ৎ────

content: highschool sweethearts, parking lot blowjob, backshots, they r lovebirds, dirty talk, praise, big cawck JK, creampie, desperate seggs, getting chased by cops, jungkook smokes and sells weed, is tatted UP, oc is a quiet good girl nerd

note from cherry: this request is MONTHS old but i finally wanted to write smth fluffy and sexy, hope u guys like it!!

@rockstryoon 4 u <3

────୨ৎ────

the backseat of his makeshift hot box, ford taurus smelled like sweat and weed,

fogged up windows that blur the beautiful sunset behind the barrier, strangely, the best views are always on random gas stations or parking lots,

much like this back alley parking spot of a local grocery store,

"fuck angel, just like that" jungkook groans, his full sleeve tatto glistening with wet droplets that spurr from his worked up, heated body

"yeah? like this baby?" you mumble through the soft licks to his fat mushroom head, pink and swollen, leaking with his arousal,

you bat your lashes up at him, squeezing his heart in the meantime,

"so fucking good, imagine everyone knew what a slut you are f'me" clenching around nothing, you shift between his spread, muscular thighs, shoving his length into the back of your throat- fuck, he fills it out so well, hitting the very back

"you take me so well sugar" his hand combes through your long strands, slicking them away from your face while you work your hot mouth on his cock, he moans- a long, desperate moan as the grip tightens

your slick practically pools in your panties, clinging to every crevice but hidden beneath the plaid, light blue skirt

his half lidded doe eyes flicker down to your messy, half opened blouse where your tits sit perfectly, full view of the small swells that fit inside his large, rough palms, your stiff buds standing proudly, begging for his attention,

he reaches down to cup your tit as best he could, groping it, toying with the fabric that covered your nipples while he rolls his fingers over them

Jungkook was nothing like you, and that's certainly why you love him,

While you spend your weekends studying for your advanced literature classes, he drives around selling weed, getting little addtions to his sleeve tatto, skipping classes to go escape the world for a little, only to sneak into your room by your window, roughed up and with his signature leather jacket, a little scratched by the tree he needs to get on to knock down the window he knew would be open,

he loves that about you,

That you're so good.

Nothing about your sweet, innocence smile smells like danger- like a police report or a chance of rebellion,

he adores how you get shy everytime he stares too long, how he never needs to worry about having to pick you up drunk out of your mind but god- does he love how much you care,

how you sit on his lap and clean up his rough skin after a fight, how your eyebrows wrinkle in concern when he lights up yet another cigarette

"m'so fucking close angel" your boyfriend mutters, lip tucked beneath his teeth, the long, shaky digits on his hands yank your messy hair, gripping it so tightly your pussy aches for relief,

like a primal instinct, his hips start rutting into your mouth, chasing, running after the wet, squeezing sensation of your body engulfing his,

It only takes your soft, manicured hands gripping the muscles of his thigh for him to snap, stuttered hips that paint your throat with a coat of his cum,

your almond, ombre nails do it for him every time, how small your palm is compared to him, how feminine you are- smell, look, feel

"good girls swallow sugar" he winks and you roll your eyes, knowing that you loved to taste him,

slightly salty, but it tasted like adoration nonetheless, you lick it off your bottom lip as well, before meeting his exhausted, loving eyes

"c'mere" nose burried in your jumbled hair, he takes a second to inhale your scent, soft, fresh laundry with a hint of cherry that resembles your beloved shampoo,

you can feel his quickened heartbeat, body crunched up in the confined space but you need more, if you could crawl in his skin, you would, needing him everywhere

Jungkook showed you that love is sometimes unconventional, and that's the most beautiful part

"you did so good, so good at sucking dick aren't you?" jungkooks whisper lingers in your ear, husky, still out of breath from his high,

"oh god- please be quiet"

one hit to his chest, another,

"okay, okay sugar, let me make it up to you" he chuckled, catching your wrist before you could throw yet another soft punch to his toned chest,

he manuvers excellently in the small space, manhandling you like it was the easiest thing he'd ever done, until you're plump rear is pointed up, arched back perfectly on display and decorated by the bunched up skirt you decided on today,

"you're so perfect you know? So pretty" you can feel his hands round over your ass, spreading them to reveal your dripping femininity all bare to him, the thong you wore now pooling at your ankles,

"i love these little things, they make you look so sexy" refering to the white thigh high socks that squeeze your thighs, he taps them,

"gguk please" your hips wiggle tesingly beneath his hungry eyes, he can see your hands pressed on the seat and your head hung down in anticipation,

one harsh slap,

"be Patient pretty, you're a good girl right?"

onther one, your skin slowly shifting into being covered in a girlish pink hue,

"are you not hm? are you a little slut after all?"

just as he's about to deliver another harsh spank to your skin, your softened, desperate voice sounds all around him, making his lips elicit a small groan,

"no gguk, i'm a good girl"

"that's right angel, such a good girl" he breathes out and finally joins his body in with yours, his stiff, angryly throbbing length held heavy in his hand,

"feel how big i am?" he teases, watching with his mouth hung open while he guided his tip between your soppy folds, grinding between them to coat himself in your stickiness, he nudges your clit, thrusting against it to watch how you clench around nothing,

"mh.. gguk.." you whine once more, biting down on your lip to not yell in desperation,

"I know pretty, i know" as he says this, his tip aligns with your entrance, pushing all the way in with one go,

"god you're so fucking tiny" jungkook moans, gripping your hips to pull you back against his pelvis, his abs flex at the contact, stiffening once he's nestled his entire girthy cock inside of you,

you could feel everything, his raw, throbbing cock filling out every crevice inside your flush walls, veins bulging against your warmth

he's ruthless with how he fucks into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size that will remain a stretch forever, snapping into you with force as you rock yourself back on him, tumbling out whimpers from your open mouth,

"yeah.. so good, my pussy, all mine, made for my cock" his torso connects with your back, wrapping his muscular arms around your trembling form as he reaches deep into your cunt, embracing the overwhelming pleasure you can only whine, moan, and hope that he wouldn't stop now,

"fuck, fuck baby you're so sexy" its now his turn to whine, he's becoming restless with his movements, moans growing more high pitched and needy with every deep push into you, his lip ring grazed by his tongue over and over again,

it's becoming too much- too much to feel your soft, small back colliding with his half revealed, sweaty torso, feeling your walls squeeze him, sucking him in so well,

Jungkook's head is spinning when he catches a glimpse of your face, red cheeks, shut eyes and a drooly mouth that begs for him, the soft strands of your well kept hair now messily falling over your shoulders and features,

but he completely looses it when you decide to grind your hip up and down, everytime he'd thrust back in, you'd keep him there a little, only pathethically grinding into his burried cock even more,

"no fuck- sugar, if you keep doing that i'm gonna fucking burst" he whines, attempting to stop his rapid orgasm but it feels too good, way too blissed out to really try and stop you,

"gguk please, i need it" you cry out, only now he notices your shaky hand thats poorly trying to play with your clit, he replaces it quickly, drawing tight circles on it while you keep grinding your hips,

"cum for me pretty, let go, make a mess on my cock" begging, pleading with you to make it messy for him, make him feel how you fall apart on him,

and god, you do,

trembling underneath his body that fully surrounds you, your knees buckle as they dig into the fabric beneath you, you practically collapse on your forarms and tits, hips held up roughly by the many hands that still them,

"oh fuck sugar, you're so cute" he rasps, fighting the urge to cry out of joy, he'a watching your eyes wet with overwhelming pleasure but all you can do is moan, stumble out his name and feel him, feel him coat your insides in his milky release,

he swears in that very moment that he never, ever wants to stop making you feel good

"that's it baby.. that's it.. such a good girl.." jungkook speaks against your skin, his tired hips halting inside of you but he's fully wrapped you in his arms now, kissing your delicate shoulder, stroking your hair to slowly ground the both of you,

you feel his fluttered kisses collide with your skin and the spotty vision slowly returns to a normal one, the sun has set entirely now, leaving a small glow to illuminate your boyfriends face and body,

"hi" you giggle, pecking his nose when faced with the handsome boy again,

"there she is" he smiles, pulling your lips in for a deep, slow kiss

"my little treasure" he mumbles into your lips, words getting lost in what the both of you call only call love, a stronger word not having been invented yet

"okay but, i promise you i could beat jake Paul in a fight" the laugh that rumbles deep inside your boyfriends chest brings a fond smile to your face, even though he's ridiculous, you would never tell him that

"Course you could, look at that bicep"

"Right? I knew i wasn't crazy!" Jungkook exclaimes, flexing the very muscle you're fingers attempt to curl around,

"pass me the lighter sugar"

He takes the small object from you, igniting the weak flame to light up the brown cigarette in between his fingers,

"A blunt? Now?"

Your round eyes widen, melting his poor heart,

while you knew he loved to smoke weed, he doesn't really do it often,

given that he mostly sells it to whoever asked him for it, as long as they were at least sixteen

he hums, taking the blunt to his lips before dragging a long puff of smoke out,

"never a bad time" while smile slightly, he presses a few kisses to your jaw, nuzzling his button nose against yours afterwards,

"Don't we wanna leave soon? It's cold gguk"

he contemplates for a secod, but as his mouth opens to reply, sirens start blaring, a blue, radiant light right with it

never a bad time huh?

"shit" he reacts quickly, putting the blunt out and starting up his engine,

panic sets in, your heart thumps like crazy inside your chest and you could feel the cortisol pouring from your neurotransmitters,

"gguk what-"

"shh baby, buckle up, don't be scared" as he says this, he quickly takes off from the parking lot, speeding down the empty street while the siren keeps blaring, cop car closely following behind,

Jungkook is no stranger to the police and of course, you try to grow acustom to it, but you've never been directly woven into his escapades, not like this

anxiously, your hands fumble with each other, images of your boyfriend in handcuffs flooding your head in rapid time,

"hey, relax pretty, i got you, i got you i promise" he says, almost too reassuringly while reaching for one of your hands,

the other one continues steering, his foot steep on the gas petal but the cops don't back off yet,

"This is scary" you whine, whipping your head back to see you've managed to create a safe distance,

"Well not my first, don't worry" jungkook chuckles and if it weren't for him driving you would punch him in the balls right now,

"Somtimes I forget you're crazy" you tell him in all honesty, relieved when after a good 8 minutes, the road is starting to grow quiet again

"Okay miss perfect" your boyfriend teases, sticking his tongue out childishly

But you don't mind, sticking yours right back out just when you both fall into lighthearted laughter

"I love you sugar" he says, squeezing your thigh softly,

"I love you too ggukie, by the way.."

"Hm?" he hums, licking his lips while his eyes trace the road attentively

"Where are you driving to?"

"Wendys, you need to eat and I know your precious brain must be all jumbled from our little adventure"

you smile, leaning over to kiss his cheek, biting it afterwards

he truly knew you all too well,

"Best boyfriend ever"

Jungkook laughs, nodding in agreement

"Gonna have desert in your bed though"

#redcherrykook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic

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mssalo · 2 months ago

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dirty old man - sleeping

In the quiet of the night, Joel can’t resist the temptation to have you just as you are - sleeping, warm, and all his to use. By morning, you’re eager to give back, slipping under the sheets to wake him up with your sweet mouth, proving that sometimes, the best dreams are the ones you wake up to.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, somnophilia, age gap, caretaker f!reader, Joel is a perverted old man (imagined age 60-70), reader in her 20s, DDLG dynamic, daddy kink, consensual somnophilia, intense possessiveness, penetrative sex, p in v sex, cuming inside, oral (male receiving), dirty talk, power dynamics, and themes of control, degradation, size difference, explicit sexual content, Joel having to pop some pills to keep up with reader bc hes an oldie

more dirty old man in masterlist

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

It was the dead of night, and a profound stillness blanketed the world outside, making it feel as though you and Joel were the only two souls in existence.

He lay beside you, his warm body pressed against yours, a comforting presence that filled the space between you. His hand rested on your thigh under the covers, the gentle weight of it stirring a heat within you even in your deep slumber.

Hours had slipped by since you had drifted off, lost in dreams, while Joel remained wide awake, his thoughts consumed by a singular focus: you. Every gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted slightly as you breathed, captivated him.

You had unknowingly spent the day teasing him, your playful glances and lingering touches igniting a simmering desire that he found impossible to ignore.

As he lay there, his dark eyes roamed over your peaceful face, memorizing every detail—the soft curve of your cheek, the way your hair fell across your forehead. So damn pretty.

It was a temptation that felt like a potent spell, pulling him closer to the edge of something he craved deeply. The urge to wake you, to make you aware of his need, pulsed through him, igniting a fire that flickered in the pit of his stomach.

With deliberate slowness, his fingers began to explore your thigh, inching higher, savoring the softness of your skin beneath his touch.

The intimacy of the moment was electric, every subtle movement charged with anticipation. He knew you were his, entirely and completely, and the thrill of that realization made his heart race. The way you teased him without even knowing it had awakened a hunger in him, one that demanded to be satisfied.

Tonight, there would be no holding back.

His hand slowly slid higher up your thigh, grazing the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath it.

You weren’t wearing anything underneath, just like he like - easy access, always ready for him.

He let out a quiet groan, feeling the slickness between your legs, even in your sleep. His cock twitched at the thought, already hardening against your backside as he pressed himself closer.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered low in your ear, his voice thick with need. “Even in your sleep, you’re ready for daddy, huh?”

You stirred slightly, a soft sound escaping your lips, but you didn’t wake up.

Joel grinned to himself, his fingers slipping between your folds, spreading your wetness as he teased you gently.

He loved this—having you completely at his mercy, knowing you were his to take whenever he wanted.

“You know what daddy wants, hm, sweet girl?” he whispered, his voice dripping with lust. “Gonna fuck you nice and slow, baby. Show you how much I need this sweet little pussy.”

You mumbled something incoherent, half-asleep, but your body responded instinctively, shifting toward his touch.

Joel took that as all the permission he needed. He reached down, positioning his hard cock at your entrance, pressing the tip against your slick folds.

“That’s it,” he muttered, pushing inside you inch by inch, groaning at the feeling of your tight, warm walls enveloping him. “So fuckin’ tight, - even in your sleep.”

Your body tensed for a moment, adjusting to the sudden fullness, but soon you relaxed, letting out a soft whimper as Joel started to move. He kept his pace slow, dragging his cock in and out of you, savoring the way your body clenched around him.

You were still half-asleep, your breathing deep and even, but the pleasure was unmistakable.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” Joel growled, his hips pressing against yours as he buried himself deeper inside you. “Always so fuckin’ good for daddy, even when you don’t know it.”

He thrust into you slowly, his hand gripping your hip to hold you in place.

You whimpered again, your body stirring as the pleasure built inside you, even in your sleepy state. Joel smirked, loving how easily he could turn you on, how quickly you responded to him.

“You love this, hm?” he teased, his voice low and filthy. “Love bein’ daddy’s little fucktoy, lettin’ me fuck you whenever I want. "- always so ready for it, sweet one.”

His dirty words sent a shiver through you, even in your haze of sleep. You moaned softly, your hips moving against him, and Joel chuckled darkly, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you.

“that's my little girl,” he murmured, his voice softening just a bit as he slowed his thrusts. “Daddy’s gonna make you cum, just like always. - gonna fill you up so good, baby. 'You need that, don’t ya? Old man cum inside your sweet cunt?”

You moaned softly, barely able to form words, but Joel didn’t need a response. He kept thrusting into you, his pace picking up just enough to push you closer to the edge. Your body trembled, the pleasure building inside you, and before you knew it, you were coming undone around him.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned as your walls clenched around his cock, milking him for all he was worth. “That’s it, come for daddy. Let me feel how much you love this.”

He fucked you through your orgasm, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. You were barely conscious, your body limp against him, but Joel didn’t care. He loved having you like this—completely at his mercy, his to use however he wanted.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he growled, his hips slamming into yours as he finally reached his climax.

He buried himself deep inside you, groaning as he filled you with his release, his cock twitching as he emptied himself into you.

For a moment, the room was silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of Joel as he held you close. He stayed inside you, his cock softening as he pressed kisses to your neck. And lastly to your soft lips.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he whispered, his voice softening as he stroked your hair. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

And as you drifted back into a deeper sleep, you couldn’t help but smile.

· · ────

The morning sun was barely creeping through the curtains when you woke, the soft rays painting the room in a gentle light.

Joel was still fast asleep beside you, his chest rising and falling steadily, a peaceful expression on his face. But as you lay there, the memories of last night flooded your mind—his hands gripping your hips, his filthy words in your ear, the way he used your body like he owned it.

The thought of it sent a familiar heat coursing through your veins. You couldn’t help yourself. You needed him again.

Carefully, you slid under the covers, moving quietly so as not to wake him just yet.

Your lips brushed against the soft skin of his stomach, trailing lower until you reached his cock. He was soft, but the weight of him in your hand made your heart race.

You wrapped your lips around the tip, sucking gently, savoring the taste of him.

Joel stirred slightly, but he didn’t wake. Not yet.

You smiled to yourself, your mouth sliding further down his length as you began to suck him off, slow and deliberate. The heat between your legs was already growing, the memory of how he fucked you last night playing over and over in your mind.

You couldn’t get enough of him—could never get enough.

As you worked him deeper into your mouth, you felt him begin to harden, his cock swelling between your lips.

His breathing changed, a soft groan escaping his throat as he slowly woke up to the sensation.

“Mmm�� what’re you doin’ down there, sweet girl?” Joel’s voice was rough with sleep, but there was a smile in it too. His hand found your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he finally opened his eyes, looking down at you with that familiar hunger.

You leaned forward, the soft graze of your lips against his skin lingering as you looked up at him with a playful gleam in your eye.

“Thought I’d remind you of last night, daddy” you murmured, your voice dripping with mischief, heat in every syllable. “Couldn’t stop thinking about how good you fucked me.”

A rough groan tore from Joel’s chest, his fingers tightening in your hair, his hips pushing up slightly, his cock heavy and throbbing under your touch.

“Knew I’d spoil you too good,” he muttered, the edges of his voice low and gravelly, thick with lust. “Spoiled from Daddy’s cock, huh? Look at you. Young thing, just desperate for it…”

You only hummed in response, eyes darkening as you took him back into your mouth, feeling the weight and warmth of him press against your tongue.

You let him feel every inch of your attention, the way you circled your tongue around the head, teasing the sensitive skin there before sinking lower, deeper, lips sliding slowly down his shaft.

His rough breaths filled the air as you worked him over, and the steady beat of his pulse against your tongue was just as intoxicating as the groans slipping from his lips.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his voice thick with satisfaction, his hand guiding you further down his length, pushing you to take him deeper.

“Suck me like that, sweetheart. Just like that.” The words only spurred you on, adding a new spark to the hunger simmering inside you.

You worked him harder, hollowing your cheeks as you moved, watching his eyes go dark with lust as you took him in, inch by inch.

His fingers tightened their grip in your hair, his hips thrusting up to meet the movements of your mouth, filling you over and over, his cock sliding deeper each time.

You could feel his gaze on you, heavy with admiration as he watched your lips wrap around him, taking him so eagerly. The rough timbre of his voice made the heat between your thighs ache, every word only feeding your need.

“Just can’t get enough, huh?” he murmured, his eyes darkening as he continued to watch you. “Look at you, sweet girl, so damn hungry for it. Daddy’s cock got you addicted already?”

Your cheeks flushed as you looked up at him, your lips tightening around his shaft as you answered with another hum, letting him feel every inch of you.

His breathing grew more ragged, his cock twitching against your tongue as you took him deeper, savoring the way his hips bucked, the way he couldn’t hold back.

“Fuck, little one,” he muttered, his words edged with tension as he kept moving, guiding you, thrusting steadily into your mouth, each stroke deeper than the last.

“Just—look at you, a pretty young thing like you, all wrapped around me like this.” His hand flexed in your hair, the heat in his eyes pushing you further as he muttered, “Goddamn perfect, sweetheart, fuck…”

You moaned around him, the sound vibrating against him as you took him down again, feeling the rush of satisfaction every time he cursed, every time he let out a rough groan.

His hips thrust up with a final, shuddering need, and you could feel him reaching the edge, his body tensing, his grip in your hair tightening as he moved harder, needier, voice low and thick.

“Gonna make me cum, baby. You want that? You want Daddy to fill your pretty mouth?” His voice broke, heavy with lust, his words hitting you like sparks as he thrust one more time, hips jerking as his release spilled down your throat.

You took him in, swallowing every drop, not letting an ounce go to waste, savoring the taste as he finally began to relax, his breathing slowing, his hand slipping from your hair as he looked down at you, his expression somewhere between satisfied and awed.

“Jesus,” he murmured, his thumb tracing over your swollen lips, eyes warm, a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. “You’re somethin’ else, baby.”

You wiped your lips with the back of your hand, smiling up at him. “Just wanted to make sure you woke up with a smile.”

Joel chuckled, pulling you up into his arms, his lips pressing against your forehead. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You grinned, your body already pressing against his, craving more. “Not before you fuck me again.”

“Damn, sweet girl,” Joel groaned, his hand sliding through your hair, tugging gently as he gazed down at you with a smirk of pure satisfaction. “With that mouth of yours… I’m gonna need those pills if I’m gonna keep up with you. Go get ’em for me, sweetheart. I wanna take my sweet time with you.”

He released a long breath, his chest still rising and falling from the aftermath of his release.

His thumb brushed your cheek, his eyes softening slightly as he spoke again. “Ain’t never felt this before. Not ‘til you came into my life. You make me feel like I’m twenty again, darlin’. Like I can’t get enough of you.”

His fingers slid down the side of your face, his touch tender now, petting your hair like he couldn’t stop admiring you. “God, you’re somethin’ else. My good girl, takin’ care of me like that.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling the familiar heat building between you again at his filthy praise.

You leaned into his hand, knowing full well that the moment you got back with those pills, Joel wasn’t going to hold back.

He was going to take his time

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

uhh......yes <3

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grimmsbride · 5 days ago

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▗▬̸̎͞/̄͆̅ ̎ ̎̿͞͞͞͞͞͞͞͞ι̚━─ ⠀ NYCTOPHILLIAC ⠀ ⠀ 𑄼ల۫ thanos / reader

getting caught up in thanos’s web was a mistake, especially when it interfered with your sleep.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ TAGS unconsensual voyuerism (thanos & reader have sexual relations in her bed while everyone is asleep. even though they are asleep, i still put this warning because i know some people can get uncomfortable). ooc thanos (first time writing for him). oral sex (fem. receiving). porn no plot. mentions of past sexual relations. fingering. dirty talk. unrealistic expectations of quiet sex(?). overuse of pet names (senorita, mama, etc.) etc.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ NOTES please heed the warning above as i would hate to make anyone uncomfortable while reading this fic. with that said please enjoy and i apologize for any grammar mistakes or typos.

Despite different games being assigned each day, it all felt the same — as if you had just stepped inside this odd room, surrounded by strangers that held far too many similarities with you. You couldn’t count the amount of times you flinched or teared up as you watched and heard bullets tear people apart, how their strangled cries escaped in a last ditch effort to somehow convince the ruthless guards to spare them. You nearly screamed yourself when blood hit your cheek, tainting the already sweaty area — which you gingerly cleaned up the moment you got time to.

You somehow survived, in just the nick of time too. You wondered if you had any right to be happy for your victory, or you should be remorseful for all the lives lost today. You pondered it for a complete moment before deciding doing so was useless, and not impertinent to your current situation.

Getting out with enough money was of the upmost importance, nothing more and nothing less.

Which is why you were quick to settle into bed the moment the opportunity arose, slipping out of your socks and jacket, pulling the blanket up over yourself, and shutting your eyes. The world around you seemed to cease — aside from the old man’s snoring beside you — your body melting into the mattress. Sleep was the only comfort you could afford to cling to in this situation, anything else was an unnecessary distraction.

Including the one that stood infront of you, taking form as a purple-haired devil.

You never intended to get entangled with any of the other contestants. You could smile and cheer together, but it wasn’t a secret how quickly that relationship could turn sour. Mixing any type of deeper attachments just seemed like a bad idea.

But you fucked up horribly, one thing leading to another, with you in the arms of a man named Thanos, who said just the right words at the time.

You promised yourself that one time was it, you wouldn’t slip up again. You couldn’t afford to slip up anyway.

“Thanos.. go away.” You murmured, courteous of the other contestants around you. You wondered if the two of you were the only ones awake.

Through the dimmed room you could spot Thanos tilting his head, elbow pressing against your bed as he leaned closer.

“C’mon don’t be like that.. just checking on you.”

You rolled your eyes, growing more frustrated by the minute. You desperately wanted sleep- actually, you needed it. You refused to suffer the next morning, especially since your life was literally on the line. You adjusted your pillow, basically staring daggers into the man.

“I’m fine, now, go to your own bed—“

“And.. I’m also cold.”

You blinked rapidly, nearly slapping that stupid smile right off his face. You decided to turn your back to him, ignoring that soft sound of disapproval he released.

“Wear your jacket or something.. hell— steal your friend’s blanket. Just let me sleep.”

You chose to ignore the second sound he released, which seemed to be an unusually pitiful whine, mixed with an obnoxious groan. You wanted to tell him off for his volume, but decided not to— trying to seem as stern as possible so he could finally leave you alone.

But Thanos wasn’t the type to let up, something you quickly learned the moment you met him. Seeing as his fingers began to graze your blanket, rising closer just so his lips were hovering over your ear.

“But you’re right here.. can’t we share some warmth until morning? You wouldn’t want me to freeze, right?”

Thanos’s words were tempting, as usual. Whether you liked to admit it or not, he knew just what to say. Which is why you called him a devil, a sickening demon with that silver tongue.

You bit the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to fight mind over matter. Not only was this bad for your sleep, you were also at risk for breaking some unknown rule. And if you got shot over cuddling, you would definitely haunt this place like a vengeful spirit.

But in the end you gave in, the reason fleeting at the moment. You could only focus on the fact he would hopefully shut up when he got what he wanted. So, wordlessly, you brought up the blanket behind you; hearing his small giddy voice as he climbed in with you.

At least the man was nice enough to allow most of the blanket to cover you, the rest of your exposed self covered by his larger frame. Thanos made quick work of wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him as his face found your neck.

“You have to leave before morning.”

Whether acknowledging you or not, the man just let out a hum, lips treading across your warm skin in the process. With a shiver you attempted to focus on sleep, admitting to yourself that the extra warmth was comforting. It also allowed you to truly relax, knowing your back was covered— literally.

Your hand found the back of his, fingers spreading along it as your eyes settled shut. You felt your self slipping in slowly, body growing heavier as that relaxation began to reach its peak.

Only to tumble down the moment you felt a thumb play at the waistband of your pants.

“Thanos..”

“Hm?”

You slowly turned your head, tight-lipped and squinting at him through the darkness. “Don’t fucking hm, me— what are you doing?”

The shit-eating grin that developed was telling, his thumb now slithering under your shirt and rubbing small circles into your skin.

“Not a thing.. yet.”

“We’re supposed to be sleeping!”

The man was quick to raise his free hand, placing a taunting finger to his lips. “Don’t wake the others Señorita, that’ll be just plain rude.” The circles on your skin continued, Thanos closer as his lips brushed against your own yet didn’t fully touch.

“This will help you sleep better. Erasing alll your worries in the blink of an eye.” He breathed, eyes flicking low as if attempting to see beneath the blanket. Instead his hand did the seeing for him, fingers breaching your pants and underwear; tips stroking your soft cunt. He couldn’t help the little twitch of a smile the moment he felt you release a strangled breath, using two long fingers to spread you open to his hand.

And when your lips parted to speak, his own covered them; a gentle kiss that caused your mind to grow dizzy. You couldn’t help your legs spreading, hand wrapping around Thanos’s wrist the moment you felt him at your clit. He rolled his thumb so perfectly, applying delicious pressure to the little bud that caused you to see stars.

The moment you needed to breathe you regretted leaving his lips, seeing as you struggled to keep your voice down. He wasn’t even touching you much yet here you were, panting and releasing the softest moan. With a quick raise of your hand, you covered your mouth— teeth biting into the flesh the moment you felt a finger slowly sink into your wetness.

“Wish I could see..” The soft comment made you groan softly, hips rising the moment he began to piston his finger. Within moments a second was joining, scissoring you open and plunging deeper then your own fingers could. Your eyebrows knitted close, the pain of your bite washing away with each thrust of his digits.

“Thanos.. please..”

“Oh no.. keep your voice to yourself�� I wouldn’t want anyone else to hear how pretty you sound.”

As usual his words held such a teasing tone, face moving back to your neck to kiss and bite gently. Even with his small request the man wasn’t making the situation any easier, especially when his thumb moved right back to your sensitive clit; rubbing those same dizzy inducing circles.

You felt way too good right now, your body practically shaking with how much you struggled to keep in. The thought of anyone waking up right now with you in this state — under the mercy of a certain purple-haired, tattooed rapper — was a thought you couldn’t even imagine without your heart pounding with anxiety.

The best thing to do would be to push him off before things progressed. You hadn’t a clue how far he wanted to take this, nor did you think it would end in time for the lights to cut on. And Thanos wasn’t a creep, he would listen to you the moment you expressed actual discomfort from the situation. But you weren’t, that pain you felt all day, that anguish; did truly wash away in seconds just from the flick of his fingers.

The thrusts against your velvety, soaked walls were perfect— your eyes rolling to find your skull the moment the ferocity increased. A metallic taste invaded your mouth from how bad you were biting yourself, but you didn’t care; it was a concern for morning [Name], not horny [Name] who was currently being cared for by the hottest contestant in this god forsaken place.

“Oh, all this clenching— you’re close aren’t you? Can barely get my fingers out.”

The smile in his speech was obvious, breath fanning against your skin as he urged you more and more; curling his fingers just right to hear your muffled sounds peak into a small squeal.

Your nails dragged across his tattooed hand, feeling it flex with each movement of his fingers. Your mind was growing cloudy, barely being able to register the words that were being pressed right against your ear.

“How about I get a taste, huh? Wanna come all in my mouth, mama.. it’ll be such an easy clean up.”

Before you could even think to speak Thanos was pulling his hand out from within you. You had little time to protest when you felt him grabbing your blanket, pulling it over his body as he crawled down your own. Your eyes slowly widened, realizing his words and actions; a new sheen of sweat finding your skin. Your nerves were on fine at this point, inner mind screaming to tell him to do anything else but that.

However, the moment you felt him pulling down your pants and his lips finding your pretty cunt, all hope was lost. The back of your head quickly found your pillow, hand going right back to your mouth to bite down even harsher than before. His tongue exited his mouth in a long stride, gliding across your wet center, and parting you easily.

Thanos created similar ministrations with the tip of his tongue like his thumb, circling your bud and slowly pulling it between his lips. There, he began to suck, the sound noisy but muffled by your blankets and other’s snoring.

Muffled gasps pushed against your skin, hips rising and legs closing around his head; bringing him even closer to you. The peak that was steadily approached seemed to pick up speed far too quickly, your mind turning to mush.

No more were you number so-so, victim to madmen and their sick games. No, you were simply [Name], moaning wantonly with little care for the environment around you.

Your other hand slithered under the blanket, finding his hair and tugging the soft tresses; feeling them stick between the gaps of your fingers. Shamelessly you rubbed against his face, desperate for that sweet release. Your pussy convulsed with each struggled breath you took, stars impeding your vision as you got closer and closer.

You felt it before you heard it, Thanos’s sweet urges right into your pussy. His wet words of make me a mess, pretty girl— don’t hold back on me now, causing you to tip over the line.

His mouth latched to you, drinking up your release as if you tasted better than any drug within his cross. It didn’t help he was practically praising your taste, a sloppy groan being delivered right into your pussy. Gingerly, Thanos licked you clean, assuring not a single drop was left.

Only when the man was fully satisfied did he let up, climbing up from the blanket and popping his head out to look down at you.

“See, it helped— you can barely keep your eyes open right now.”

You released a soft breath, a mix of a chuckle and a sigh as you stared up at the man. “You gonna let me sleep now?” You spoke softly, watching his wet lips curl into a gentle smile.

“Of course. Good night, [Name].”

829 notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 6 months ago

Text

Racer!Reader x Racer!Mingyu 一 Rivals to Lovers

Synospsis: Racer!Mingyu, the new kid, is determined to beat you in the college underground race. Does he have the guts to defeat you, his senior, the reigning queen of the racing scene? Before the race starts, a photo of your boyfriend cheating on you is spread to the students. When you look up from your phone, there's Mingyu with his piercing eyes. [...]

“Hmm, all upset, just the way I wanted,” Mingyu teased, leaning against the doorframe.

WC: 8k

Warnings: Cheating, illegal racing, rumors, smut, angst, penetrative sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), squirt, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, body fluids (cum), kinda of rage make out?, chocking, spanking, dirty talk, sex pic and etc.

Mingyu. A name that had once been just a murmur in the shadows of the racing world is now on everyone's lips. This new kid, this prodigy, decided to go against the grain, to take on the best and make a name for himself.

And somehow, you're the one he's set his sights on. The competition is obvious, like the electricity in the air before a storm, and the entire college is buzzed with bets. It's impossible to ignore the excitement at the thought of the race tonight. It's been too long since you've felt this alive.

The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline is already in your nose, a scent that brings back a flood of memories. The first time you felt the wind rush past you on two wheels, the rush of adrenaline when you crossed the finish line ahead of the pack.

The races had been your escape, your way to prove to the world that you were more than just another face in the crowd.

And now, as you lace up your boots and slip into your worn-in leather jacket, you know that this race will be different. It's not just about the thrill anymore. It's about pride, about maintaining your title, about showing Mingyu that he's bitten off more than he can chew.

The stakes are higher than ever before. You can feel it in the way Mark's eyes darken every time he looks at you, in the way he clenches his fists when Mingyu's name is mentioned.

As you swing your leg over your bike and rev the engine, you push those thoughts aside. Tonight, there's only one thing that matters: the race, the roar of the engines, and the taste of victory.

Mingyu's eyes sparkle inside his helmet, the gleaming visor reflecting the neon lights of the college parking lot that's been transformed into a makeshift race track. He's young, fearless, and he's got something to prove.

You've watched him from afar, studied his technique, his daring moves that have earned him the title of 'the rookie to watch'. He's good, really good, but he's never raced against someone like you. You're the old war-horse in this game, a veteran who's seen it all and done it all.

And now, the moment has arrived.

The girl in the quadriculed flag raises it high, her arm muscles taut with excitement. You and Mingyu lock eyes for a brief second, a silent promise of a fierce battle to come. And then, with a nod from her, you both speed off into the night. Your bike responds to your touch like a well-trained steed, the engine purring as you lean into the first turn.

But this is your turf, and you're not about to let some newcomer take your crown without a fight.

As the race extends, the wind whips through your hair, and the roar of the engines fills your ears. The world around you is a blur of lights and shadows, the only thing clear being the track ahead and the figure of Mingyu on your tail.

You push harder, feeling the bike protest under your command, but she holds steady. You're the lead, with Mingyu playing the role of the eager suitor, eager to overtake. You can't help but smile beneath your helmet. It's been so long since someone's made you feel this alive. The thrill of the chase is intoxicating, and you're going to enjoy every second of it.

As you cross the finish line, you pull a dramatic wheelie, the tires screeching and smoking against the asphalt. You circle around, revving the engine, feeling the power beneath you, and as you come to a stop, Mingyu pulls up beside you.

You both remove your helmets, and the chilly night air kisses your sweat-drenched skin. His eyes are on you, focused and intense, drinking in the sight of you. Your hair is a wild mess around your face, the wind from the race playing with it like it's alive.

You swing your leg over the bike, the leather of your pants hugging your thighs tightly. You stand there, arms crossed over your chest, looking at him. He's tall, with a muscular build that's clear even through his bulky racing gear. His face is a mask of determination, and there's something about the way he carries himself that makes you want to knock him down a peg.

"So, what's your name, kid?" you ask, your voice carrying over the din of the engines.

Mingyu's face cracks into a smirk, and he extends his hand towards you. "Mingyu. Kim Mingyu," he says, his voice deep and sure. But you don't take the bait. You keep your arms crossed, your eyes locked on his.

His smirk falters a little when you ignore his outstretched hand, and he slowly lowers it.

The crowd around you goes quiet, watching this silent exchange like it's a scene from a movie. They know the history, the tension, and the unspoken challenge that's just been laid down.

"Well, you must know me," you say, the leather jacket creaks as you tighten your grip.

"I know of you," he says, his language tinged with a hint of an accent. "But I'm not here to bow down to reputations. I'm here to make my own." You can't help but respect that.

The crowd around you is hushed, waiting for the next move. Mark is there, his eyes on you, a silent question in his gaze. You give him a nod, reassuring him that you're okay, that you're in control.

The rivalry between you and Mingyu has only just started, and it's going to be one hell of a race.

Mark storms over, eyes flashing with anger. "What the hell are you two talking about for so long?" His voice cuts through the cheers of the crowd, drawing their attention. You feel the tension between him and Mingyu, like a string pulled taut, ready to snap.

Mingyu just watches him with that sly grin, clearly enjoying the show. His gaze flickers over you, lingering on your leather pants, and you feel a shiver of annoyance and something else you can't quite name.

"Hey, Mark," you say, trying to keep your tone light, but there's an edge to it. "Calm down. We were just talking."

"Talking? That's what you're calling it?" Mark's voice is loud, drawing even more eyes to your little drama. He turns to Mingyu, his face red. "And what are you looking at?"

You roll your eyes, the frustration bubbling up inside you. "Mark, walk."

He stares at you, eyes wide in disbelief. "What?"

"Yeah, walk," you repeat, your voice firm. "Just go cool off."

For a moment, it looks like he might argue, but then he glances at Mingyu, who’s still smirking, clearly enjoying the spectacle. With a huff, Mark turns on his heel and stalks off, the crowd parting to let him through.

Mingyu chuckles, a low sound that only you can hear. "What an obedient boyfriend you have."

You shoot him a look, half warning, half curiosity. "Don't push your luck, Mingyu."

He raises his hands in mock surrender, the grin never leaving his face. "Just calling it like I see it. But seriously," his tone shifts, becoming more sincere, "you were amazing out there."

"Thanks," you say, the word coming out more curt than you intended. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension from Mark's outburst. "So, why did you want to race me, really?"

Mingyu’s expression becomes thoughtful, the cocky façade slipping just a little. "Because I wanted to see if the rumors were true. And now, I know they are."

You can't help but smile at that, feeling a rush of pride. "Well, you gave me a good run for my money."

"Next time," he says, his voice low and filled with promise, "I'll be the one crossing the finish line first."

"We'll see about that," you reply, walking out with your motorcycle by your side, glancing at him over your shoulder.

[...]

Mingyu, the new kid, had something different, something that pushed your limits in a way no other rival had before. It was exhilarating, but also stressful. And your boyfriend’s incessant comments about Mingyu didn’t help.

Every time he brought up how Mingyu looked at you, how rude he was, how he thought he was the most incredible thing, you rolled your eyes. Mark’s jealousy was nothing new, but you’d never seen him so uncomfortable around someone before.

For the past month, you’d heard from other students that Mingyu had been spreading rumors about how he was going to win this race, no matter what. It was irritating, but also a challenge you couldn’t ignore.

As you were heading to your P.E. class, you saw Mingyu and his friend walking down the hallway. He spotted you immediately, a grin spreading across his face.

"Look who's here, Y/N... without the leather jacket?" His eyes roved over your tight gymnastic clothing, clearly enjoying the sight.

You smiled around the scrunchie you held between your teeth as you tidied up your hair, then pulled it free to tie it up. "Look who’s here, Mingyu... still talking big?" you teased back, not missing a beat.

He laughed, a rich sound that echoed down the hall. "Only because I’ve got the skills to back it up."

"Oh, really?" you said, raising an eyebrow. "All I’ve seen so far is a lot of talk."

"Maybe you just haven’t been paying close enough attention," he replied, leaning casually against the lockers. "I’ll make sure to give you a front-row seat next time."

You finished tying your hair and gave him a mock look of concern. "I’d hate to see you disappoint all those fans you’ve been bragging to."

He smirked, undeterred. "Don’t worry, I’ve got this covered. You might want to start thinking about a new title because that crown is coming my way."

"Big words for someone who hasn't beaten me yet," you shot back, stepping closer, your confidence unwavering.

"We'll see about that," he said, his voice low and filled with promise. His eyes held yours for a moment longer, the air between you crackling with tension.

Mingyu doesn't look the least bit afraid of you, of your reputation, of what you can do on this track. He's bold, maybe even a little cocky, and you can't decide if you like it or if it just makes you want to wipe that smug look off his face.

You've always been the one everyone looks up to, the one they whisper about in the halls. But now, there's someone new, someone who doesn't seem to know his place. And that's what makes him so intriguing.

You know Mingyu will be back, and he'll be better next time. And you can tell your boyfriend, Mark, is not happy about this new rivalry一about the way Mingyu makes you feel alive again.

"You've got to get your head out of the clouds, Y/N," Mark says as you look to the ceiling, "This isn't just a game anymore."

You pull back, looking up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Mingyu," he says, his voice tight with anger, "he's different. He's not like the others."

You roll your eyes, trying to play it off. "He's just a freshman with a fast bike," you say.

"He's been watching you," Mark says, his eyes searching yours, "studying you. He's got a vendetta, and I don't like it."

You swallow hard, pushing the thought away. You can't let Mingyu get under your skin like this. "I've got this," you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

But Mark's not convinced. He's noticed the way your mind has been elsewhere, the way you've been pushing him away. The way you've been turning down his advances, lost in thought about the new kid on the block. He's been frustrated for a few weeks, trying to get you to focus on anything other than the race.

As the days pass, the tension between you and Mark grows thicker. He tries to initiate sex, but your mind is always elsewhere, replaying the race, thinking about Mingyu's next move. You know you're hurting him, but you can't seem to stop.

The thought of Mingyu, of the way he looked at you, of the way he talked about winning, it's like a drug. And you're hooked.

The next day, you're in the garage, wrench in hand, making some final adjustments to your bike. You've always been meticulous, but with Mingyu on your mind, you're even more so. You can't have anything going wrong on your bike when you face him again.

The door to the garage opens, and you look up, expecting it to be Mark, but instead, it's Mingyu. He struts in, his leather jacket and bike helmet hanging casually from his hand.

"Hey, Y/N," he says, a smug smile playing on his lips. "I see you're still playing with your toy."

You roll your eyes, not bothering to hide your annoyance. "What do you want?" you ask, not looking up from your work.

"Just thought I'd come by and say congrats," he says, leaning against the workbench. "You put on a good show last night."

You raced a senior from your class last night. You won despite the slippery concrete caused by the rain. Again.

You slam the wrench down, the sound echoing in the empty garage. "Thanks, but I'm not looking for your approval," you reply, your voice icy.

Mingyu laughs, a sound that grates on your nerves. "You don't have to be so defensive," he says, his eyes scanning the garage, "I just wanted to talk shop, maybe pick up some tips from the queen herself."

You stand up, wiping your hands on your greasy rag. "What makes you think I'd share anything with you?"

He shrugs, his smile never wavering. "Call it a peace offering," he says, holding out his hand. "Truce?"

You stare at his hand for a moment, weighing your options. You know you need to keep your enemies closer, especially one as talented as Mingyu. You take his hand, giving it a firm shake. "Fine," you say, "but don't get any ideas."

"Oh, I have plenty of ideas," he says, his eyes glinting with mischief, "but I'll save them for the track."

You can't help but laugh, despite yourself. He's got nerve, you'll give him that. You spend the next hour talking bikes and racing strategies, and for the first time since the race, you feel like you're not just a competitor but a fellow enthusiast. It's strange.

As Mingyu leaves, you can't help but feel a blend of emotions. There's the excitement of the challenge he represents, the thrill of the rivalry that's been ignited. But there's also a nagging doubt, a fear that maybe Mark is right.

Maybe Mingyu isn't just a racer looking to make a name for himself. Maybe he's got something more planned, something that could threaten not just your title but your relationship.

You shake the thought off, telling yourself you're just being paranoid. After all, it's just a race, right?

[...]

The sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow over the makeshift circuit that’s been built for tonight's race. You take a long sip of your Gatorade, savoring the cool taste as you mentally prepare yourself for the competition. The grandstand is buzzing with energy, students excitedly chattering about the upcoming event.

As you sit there, focusing on your breathing, Mingyu appears and casually sits down next to you. You chuckle, unable to help yourself. "Are you following me, kid?"

He rolls his eyes, a familiar gesture by now. "I’m not a kid."

"But I’m your senior," you counter, grinning at the way his face sours. He’s always so easy to tease. "What did you plan?"

"Huh?" He seems genuinely confused, his attention now fully on you.

You smirk, leaning back a bit. "What do you have up your sleeve, Mingyu? Some oil on the floor, a pin in my tire...?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "I don’t need tricks to beat you."

"Good," you say, your voice dropping slightly, more serious now. "Because neither do I."

Before the conversation can go any further, your boyfriend, Mark, appears. "What’s he doing here?" he asks, his tone accusatory.

"Just talking," you reply, trying to keep your cool.

"Talking, huh?" Mark scoffs. "Seems like he’s always around, doesn’t it? You’d think he’s got nothing better to do."

"I think you’re overreacting." You breath tired.

Mark's eyes narrow. "Just remember who’s waiting for you at the finish line."

Mingyu’s jaw tightens at this, his posture stiffening. He looks like he’s holding back something, a secret or a truth he’s not ready to share.

You glance at Mingyu, noticing the shift in his conduct. "What’s that look for?" you ask him, curious despite yourself.

He shakes his head, the tension in his body evident. "Nothing. Just focus on the race."

You button your jacket, feeling the familiar weight of the leather settle around your shoulders. Checking your shoelaces, you make sure they’re tight, ready for the race ahead. The buzz of your phone breaks the moment, a single notification lighting up the screen. You glance around, noticing other students doing the same, pulling their phones from their pockets.

It’s odd, almost synchronized.

The feeling in your gut is like a rock, weighing you down, making it harder to breathe. You glance around, noticing the smirks and knowing looks from the other racers, the whispers that seem to carry on the wind.

You click on it, and your heart sinks like a stone. It's a picture of Mark, your Mark, kissing a girl. A girl with auburn hair and a laugh that's nothing like yours. And he's wearing the shirt you gave him just this week, the one with the funny racing pun on the back. The same shirt he wore to bed last night, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

You stand there, frozen, as the world carries on around you. The cheers of the crowd, the roar of the bikes—it’s all just background noise now. You look up and see everyone watching you, their expressions a combination of pity and shock. They all know now. They've all seen it.

And as your eyes meet Mingyu's, you realize that he knows too. There's something in his gaze, a glint of satisfaction that makes your blood boil. Did he do this? Did he send this to you? The thought is like a knife twisting in your gut, but you can’t be sure.

With trembling hands, you slip the phone back into your pocket, trying to compose yourself. You don’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart. But as you button your jacket and tighten the laces of your boots, you can’t help but feel like you’re tying up the loose ends of your life.

Everything’s changed in the span of a single message. Your heart is racing, but it’s not from the thrill of the chase anymore. It stems from the agony of disloyalty and the rage at being played for a fool.

And as you turn to face Mark, who’s pushing his way through the crowd, his eyes searching for yours, you know that the real race has only just begun.

Your breath comes in shudders as you hop on your bike, putting on your helmet. You’ve give all the signs that you are going to race tonight. The crowd is abuzz with anticipation, their eyes locked on you.

You roll the bike's accelerator, the roar calling for attention so the race can start. The flag girl gulps, her nervousness evident, and you look over your shoulder to see Mingyu approaching.

The girl stretches the flag, and you brace yourself. The lights go out, and suddenly, you're off, the wind in your hair, the roar of the engines filling your ears. Mingyu is right beside you. You can feel the bike responding to your every move, the tires gripping the asphalt like a vice.

Inside your helmet, your breathing is loud and ragged, a stark reminder of the adrenaline and anger coursing through you.

As you race, your thoughts race too. Mingyu planned everything. He sat by your side to watch you unravel from Mark's jealous crisis, and then those messages minutes before the race start—meant to destabilize you. It’s like a puzzle clicking into place, each piece revealing the depth of his strategy.

The bike protests but holds steady as you apply more pressure. The track is a blur, but your focus is razor-sharp. Mingyu is still there, matching your speed, but you’re not going to let him win.

You replay the moment when you first saw the message, the image of Mark kissing another girl. It stings, but it also sets you aflame. How dare he think he can break you? How dare he underestimate you? You’re not just racing against Mingyu; you’re racing against the doubts and whispers.

Mingyu pulls ahead slightly, his bike edging past yours. You grit your teeth, leaning forward to reduce drag, pushing your bike to its limits. The sound of the engines is loud, the wind whipping past you.

You glance at Mingyu. He thinks he won, that his plan worked. But he doesn’t know you.

You see the final stretch approaching, the finish line within sight. You dig deep, finding that last reserve of strength. You and Mingyu are neck and neck, the crowd’s cheers blending into a single roar. The world narrows to just this moment, just this race.

As you cross the finish line, you throw all your weight into one last burst of speed. You cross the line a split second before Mingyu, the crowd exploding into cheers.

You slow down, the realization of your win sinking in. You did it. Despite everything, you did it. But still, there is no taste of victory in your mouth.

The cheers fade as you lean forward, gripping the handlebars, and ride your bike away from the circuit, leaving a cloud of dust behind you. The streets blur past you, seeking an escape from everything. Your dorm or campus are the last place you want to be tonight.

After what feels like hours, you spot a cheap motel by the roadside. Its flickering neon sign is a welcome sight, a promise of anonymity, and a place to rest. You pull in, park your bike and walk to the reception. The clerk barely looks up as you hand over cash for the night. Key in hand, you head to your room.

The room is small and poorly illuminated, but it’s a refuge from the chaos of the night. You lay on the bed, the springs creaking under you, and pull out your phone. The screen is still lit with notifications, but you don’t want to see any of them. Whether it was Mingyu or someone else who shared those photos, you don’t care. Not tonight.

[...]

The weekend drags by, each minute feeling like an eternity. You don’t go to class, don’t leave your dorm except to grab food from the vending machine, because, you can’t face the pity in your friends’ eyes.

You clean obsessively, organizing your bookshelf, scrubbing the floors, folding clothes into neat piles. It’s a futile attempt to regain some semblance of order in your life. It feels like you’re erasing him from your life, one item at a time.

The notifications on your phone keep popping up, your friends and classmates checking in, asking if you’re okay. You manage to reply with short, curt responses. "Yeah," you type, "Just need some space." The lie feels heavy on your fingertips, but it’s easier than explaining the tornado of emotions inside you.

As the day stretches on, you start to feel a little more in control. You’re not going to let this beat you. You’re not going to let Mark or Mingyu ruin what you’ve built.

So you sit there, in the quiet of your room, and you start to plan. You’re going to show up to class, to the next race, with your head held high. You’re going to leave the drama behind and focus on what you do best—race.

On Thursday, you walk into class, a box in your arms. The whispers start as soon as you enter the room, the eyes are on you like a spotlight. You find Mark’s usual seat and drop the box in front of it, the thud echoing in the stunned silence.

The box, with his things.

You don’t wait for his reaction. You don’t need to. You turn and walk out, leaving the whispers and the weight of his backstabbing behind.

At lunch, you sit with your friends, the same table you’ve shared since freshman year. They all look at you, their eyes filled with concern. "You okay?" one of them asks, tentatively.

You nod, trying to put on a brave face. "Yeah," you say, your voice stronger than you feel, "I just needed some time to sort things out."

They all nod, understanding without needing the details. They know the score, they know what happened at the race. They know about the picture, the rumors, the cheating.

"You've cried enough," your best friend says, her voice firm but gentle, "It's like that bruise on your knee from when you were seven. It hurt like hell, but it's healing now."

You manage a small smile at the memory. It’s true. You’ve shed enough tears over Mark to fill an ocean. But here you are, breathing, standing, moving forward.

"Let’s talk about something else," you say, changing the subject. "What's new with all of you?"

They exchange glances, clearly surprised by your sudden shift in tone, but they follow your lead. They talk about their classes, their weekends, their plans for spring break. You listen, really listen, letting their words wash over you like a balm to your soul.

"Oh, and apparently none of Mark’s friends want to talk to him," someone says, almost as an afterthought. "They had no idea."

"Good," you say. "He’s not worth their time either."

Your friends nod, respecting your wishes to not delve into the drama further. You don’t need their pity or their empathy. You just need them to be there, to be the rock that grounds you.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and you all stand up, collecting your trash. "Thanks, guys," you say, your voice genuine.

"For what?" one of them asks.

"For not treating me like I’m made of glass." you reply, smiling.

They laugh, you know they’re worried, but you also know they trust you to handle this. You’re the same person you were before the race. You’re strong.

The sadness has morphed into something else, anger simmers just under the surface, a slow burn that’s been building since that message. You’re not just mad at Mark, but at Mingyu too. You don’t know his role in this, but you can feel his influence, the way he’s been poking and prodding, trying to get under your skin.

And now, it’s like a game of chess, and you’re the pawn in the middle of the board. You can’t help but wonder if he’s been playing you from the start. If all those smirks and smug looks were just part of his plan to take you down.

The bell rings, and you grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. As you turn to leave, you feel a hand wrap around your arm. You turn, ready to snap, and find yourself face-to-face with Mingyu. You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Come on, don’t be grumpy. Running away from me, princess?” he says, a sulky look on his face.

You remember avoiding both Mingyu and Mark all day, doing everything to keep your distance. You start to leave, but he holds onto your arm again, making you huff in frustration.

“You should thank me, don’t you think?” he says, his tone teasing.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Mingyu smirks. “First, I let you win last Saturday,” he says, lying through his teeth. You remember how he was right on your tail during the race, clearly giving it his all.

“And I got you rid of that asshole,” he adds.

You cross your arms, glaring at him. “So, you’re admitting you orchestrated this whole thing, huh?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, I warned him it would happen.”

“He knew?” you ask, your voice rising in disbelief.

Mingyu tilts his head slightly, like he’s stating the obvious. “Of course he knew. Y/N, he was cheating on you for a whole semester. At the first freshman party I went to, I saw him with Sayla. She’s from my class.”

“What?” you nearly shout, drawing the attention of nearby students. Mingyu gives you an exasperated look, like it’s common knowledge.

You grab his arm and drag him around campus, heading for the grandstand where you can talk in private. Once there, you turn to him, your eyes blazing with anger.

“I saw the photo, and I know it’s real. But Mingyu, if you’re lying about this, I swear I will fucking kill you.”

He shakes his head, his expression serious. “Why would I lie to you? If I need to tell you something, I’ll say it to your face.”

“Tell me from the beginning,” you demand, crossing your arms.

He rolls his eyes but starts talking. “Well, it was my first party here, a freshman party. I needed to go to the bathroom, and there they were, making out.”

You make a disgusted face, which seems to amuse him. “But in the photo, they weren’t in a bathroom,” you point out.

“Yeah, it happened plenty of times. When I found out he was your boyfriend, I went to a frat party and took that photo,” Mingyu explains.

“That one?” you ask, referring to the incriminating photo.

Mingyu nods. “Yeah, that one. He saw the photo and came to have it out with me. I might have told him that if he didn’t tell you, I would, and that I would love to take care of his girlfriend.”

You scoff. “So that’s why he was so sick-jealous of me?”

Mingyu closes his eyes and nods like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You curse under your breath, feeling the weight of betrayal all over again. “This motherf—”

You stop, looking at Mingyu, who’s watching you with a confused expression. “What do you mean by ‘take care of his girlfriend’?”

Mingyu smirks. “I was interested in you. But when I found out you were dating, I backed off. When I saw your boyfriend slacking, I needed to make it clear to Mark that I was going to reach out to you somehow.”

You narrow your eyes at him, the audacity of it all making your blood boil. “So, you’ve been planning this from the start?”

“Not exactly,” Mingyu says, shrugging. “But I saw an opportunity and took it. Your boyfriend was a dick, and you deserve better.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “And you think you’re better?”

Mingyu’s is smug. “I know I am.”

“And what makes you think I’d be interested in you?” you challenge, crossing your arms.

Mingyu steps closer, his gaze intense. “You’re fierce, competitive, and you don’t take shit from anyone. You’re exactly the kind of challenge I like.”

You roll your eyes, though a small part of you is flattered? “You’re still an asshole.”

He grins. “Maybe, but at least I’m honest about it. Can’t say the same for Mark.”

You take a deep breath, trying to process everything. "Mingyu, just stay out of my way. I don’t need any more complications.”

“What can I say? I know what I want.” He shrugs before leaving, again, with that stupid smirk on his face.

[...]

You were dragged by your friends to every party on campus, parties you didn’t even know existed, every day a new one. According to them, you needed to enjoy your new ‘single’ life. And with all the guys on campus now aware that you were single, your DMs were flooded.

Tonight was one of those nights. Everyone saw you parking your motorcycle in front of the frat house, the rumble announcing your arrival. You danced with your friends, met new people, but your happiness didn’t last long.

You caught a glimpse of Mark and Sayla. Sayla was wearing one of his baseball jackets, his arm draped over her shoulder. Everyone stared at them, the ‘new’ couple making a fool of themselves.

You didn’t expect Mark to be so bald-faced about it. Your blood boiled, your head felt like it was on fire, and you wanted to leave the party. But if you did, you’d look weak. So you stayed, trying to enjoy the party with your friends, but it was impossible. When Mark kissed Sayla, one eye open in your direction to gauge your reaction, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed your helmet and stormed out of the party, your friends calling after you, warning you not to do anything stupid because you were hot-headed.

And you were, for real.

Arriving back on campus, you pulled out your phone, fingers fumbling as you dialed a number. Your steps echoed, the dress you’d chosen for the party riding up with each step, making you pull it down in frustration.

The phone rang, and rang, until finally, a voice answered, “You calling me? Y/N, what a—”

“Where are you?” you cut him off, voice trembling with rage.

“Damn, what happened to ‘hello, how are you?’” The voice was playful, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Where. Are. You.”

“Hell, I’m at my dorm, wassup?”

“Open the door,” you demanded.

“What?”

“Open the fucking door,” you said before hanging up.

Moments later, the dorm door opened, revealing Mingyu with the phone still in his hand, wearing only black shorts that showed a peek of his white underwear. He looked confused, but when he saw you—eyes almost black with rage, in your little dress—he swore it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Hmm, all upset, just the way I wanted,” he teased, leaning against the doorframe.

You pushed him inside, slamming the door shut behind you and tossing your cell phone on the table. You kissed him, rough and urgent, your fingers tangling in his hair. Mingyu moaned between kisses, the realization that you were kissing him sinking in. His hands found your waist, one hand sliding up to your neck, choking you slightly, making you gasp.

A smirk played on his lips, between breaths. “About time you admitted it.”

“Shut up,” you muttered before kissing him again, harder this time.

Mingyu's grip tightened on your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re so damn hot when you’re mad,” he murmured against your lips.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you demanded, your fingers tugging at his hair.

He obliged, kissing you with a fervor that matched your own. His hand slid down your back, gripping your ass and pulling you against him. You could feel his bulge pressing against you, a reminder of how much he wanted you. You broke the kiss, breathlessly, your eyes locking onto his.

“What’s your plan, Y/N?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

You smirked, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “To make sure I don’t think about Mark ever again.”

Mingyu’s eyes darkened with craving. “I can help with that.”

“Good,” you said, pulling him back into a kiss, your hands exploring his body, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, fingers fumbling from his big chest, to the defined lines of his abs.

Your hand slides from his lower belly to his cock, squeezing his clothed erection slightly. You feel him twitch in your hand, a broken sob leaving his lips.

“Fuck, you got hard so fast,” you murmur against his mouth.

He moans, his breath hot and heavy. “Can’t help it when it’s you.”

You grin wickedly, turning around to show him the long zipper at the back of your dress. “Help me,” you say, your voice low and inviting.

Mingyu nods, his eyes dark with desire. He bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as he catches the zipper and slides it down, his happiness akin to opening a Christmas gift. The dress falls away, and you hold your breasts in your hands, turning to face him, your fingers playing with your hardened nipples, watching his eyebrows furrow.

His hot hand covers yours, and you let him take over, feeling the heat of his touch. He pushes you toward the bed, his lips trailing kisses down your neck before biting gently, his notorious fangs grazing your sensitive skin.

You moan, the sound going straight to his cock. His hands move desperately to your panties, fingers fumbling with the lace until they’re off your legs. He opens your legs with his hands, giving your wet folds a not-so-discreet look.

Mingyu licks his fingers, meeting your eyes before sliding them inside you. You scream at the sudden stretch, feeling his big fingers filling you. He looks at you, to see if it hurts, but then he feels you getting wetter and wetter, your pants filling the room. His hand stills, and you roll your clit against his palm.

His fingers start to slide in and out, the wet noises are sinful as he finds your g'spot. You gasp, your body arching from his bedsheets, your both hands finding his forearm, stilling his fingers curled in this position.

Mingyu's eyes widen in surprise at your reaction, and he repeats the motion, pressing against your sweet spot again, making your eyes fill with tears.

''R-right here! Please!"

“Did your boyfriend never find this spot?” he asks, his voice serious.

You shake your head negatively, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Mingyu's expression hardens, anger flashing in his eyes. “That asshole didn’t know how to please you,” he mutters, then his voice softens as he coos at you.

You sob, his fingers curling repeatedly on the spongy spot. “Aw… don’t worry, my love. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

He continues to stimulate you, watching your every reaction, your pleasure nourishing his own. His fingers work you expertly, and you start to get embarrassed by how wet you are getting.

But you can't stop your hips from rubbing against his hands, you can't stop yourself from constantly moaning his name, and you can't help but wonder how you survived without feeling the pleasure Mingyu was giving you.

Your body tenses so much, you're afraid of getting injured, and the pleasure builds, making your vision blurry, catching only Mingyu's silhouette. “Mingyu…,” you gasp, your voice shaking.

He's in love with your sensitive form. He slides his fingers out, brushing against your clit, making you moan, wanting the stimulation again, but then he munches on your pussy, making a throaty moan leave your mouth, tears wetting your cheeks. You don't even know if you're sobbing or moaning. You can only focus on his warm mouth sucking everything it can.

Mingyu moans against you, like he's getting stimulated too, and when you manage to squeak out, “Gonna' cum,” he moans even more, the vibrations going to your clit as you arch your back, squeezing your tits.

He opens your legs—quivering pathetically around his head—with the strength of his arms. He only stops when he feels your clit throbbing incessantly inside his mouth, all sensitive.

You don't know how long it took before you were in your mind again, but you can feel Mingyu kissing your whole body. For him, it was a maxim to calm you down, but mainly to appreciate every bit of your skin. When you open your eyes, he's kissing your hand, his thumb gently caressing it. You don't look much, or you will blush. For him, it could finish like this: you cummed, satisfied, and he gets satisfied. But then you mumble, eyes lidded, “Fuck me, please.”

His eyes almost fall from his skull. He watches your legs spread, and you slap weakly at your pussy, inviting him. Mingyu almost falls back with your tease. His hands, lowering his shorts and underwear in one go, desperate to go over you.

"Wait."

He stills, and you smile at his obedience. You turn around, on all fours, wiggling your ass at him, and you hear a suffered moan behind you, making you scoff.

He squeezes your ass between his hands tightly, then slaps your meat, making you hiss. Then another one, making you moan. Then another one, making you drip a line of your cum on the sheets.

Mingyu feels like a crazy creature. He pumps his veiny cock before sliding on your wet folds to spread your cum. And then slides inside. You were so tight, so tight that his blood pressure almost falls down.

“I need to thank your boyfriend for keeping it tight.” He groans after bottoming out.

You widen your eyes at the comment, he sounded so sincere. And you laugh, your hand covering your face, and he chuckles too, seeing that he can't hold his tongue around you.

He can feel you clenching around him every time you laugh, making him moan synchronized with you. He starts to move and your laughs turn into moans, laughed-moans.

“Shit, you’re so tight, you are squeezing me,” he cries, his thrusts slow and deep.

“Didn’t think you’d be this talkative,” you manage between gasps, your body responding to every move he makes.

“Can’t help it,” he breathes, leaning down to kiss your shoulder.

His pace quickens, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. You grip the sheets, your back arching as he hits just the right spot. “Right there, Mingyu. Fuck, right there.”

He obeys, his thrusts becoming more precise, each one sending thrills through your body. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips. “So fucking good.”

"Seriously, Mingyu," continue betwee moans, "you have no filter."

He grins, thrusting harder. "You're too much."

"Too much for you?" you tease, pushing back against him.

"Never," he mooans, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "I could do this forever."

You moan at his words, that feeling on your stomach tightening. "God, Mingyu..."

He leans over, his breath hot against your ear. "You like it when I talk, hm? When I say, how good you feel?"

You nod frantically, your mind a blur, you were cock-drunk, moaning his name like it was the only word you ever knew.

He chuckles darkly, thrusting deeper. "Good, because I’m not stopping until you can’t even say his name."

He stops his hips inside you, balls deep, and you can feel his tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips to make you feel it deep. Your arms quiver, making you fall with your chest on the bed, face on the sheets. You've never felt someone this deep before. Your hand reaches the bulge Mingyu makes on your belly, and you writhe.

He dirty talks, "You like to feel me here?"

You answer with a throaty moan. He closes his eyes to your rough moan and says, "Fuck, I need to see your pretty face moaning my name."

He turns you to lay on the bed again, one of your legs on his shoulder, and the other stretched by his hand. Since when were you this flexible? you think. When he slams inside you again, your messy cunt clings to him for dear life.

You moan all sly, and Mingyu is inches from your face now, and he teases you, "Look who's all sensitive right now. Where's that grumpy girl from the race? Hm? You just needed a good cock fucking you right to get you relaxed? Right, babe?"

You want to clap a hand on his mouth to keep his cocky talk out of it, but your pussy betrays you, clenching around him the moment his dirty words start to fall from his lips. Instead, you give some wet kisses on his lips. He reciprocates every one of them.

You ask him to touch you, and he looks in your eyes, asking, "Where?"

You guide one of his hands to your clit. He collects some of the lubrication that formed a ring at the base of his cock and starts to massage the swollen bud, circling it. Your nails scratch his back, and he hisses, eyes closing. He ruts desperately into you, your pussy casting a spell on him, all wet and good for him.

You glance around the space, the warm illuminated lamp, the scent of his cologne everywhere, his tanned body sweating to give you pleasure, his muscles clenching as he holds you, his hand on your clit, his cock filling you, his eyes focused on every one of your expressions, his moans every time you clench.

You prepare for every detail when your eyes suddenly blur. You feel it coming... fuck. You're cumming, but something else is coming too.

The realization hits you, and you say, "No, no, no, shit!"

You hold his bicep, your head thrown back, the veins on your neck popping. You try to stop, but you can't. You squirt all over him and his bed.

Mingyu stops inside you, mouth open. Now he gets desperate, taking his cock from you and cumming on your belly, so far that it hits your tits too. He lets your legs rest on the bed, and you cover your mouth.

"M-Mingyu, your bed! I'm sorry, let me put this to wash and—" You start to get up, feeling a rush of embarrassment and responsibility for the mess.

Mingyu, still catching his breath, quickly moves to stop you, his hand firm but gentle on your shoulder. He gives you a little push, making you lay back on the bed again. "Hey, relax," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's just a bed. We can clean it up later."

You look at him, your cheeks flushed. "But it's such a mess," you protest weakly.

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I like it messy," he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "Besides, I think I like you better like this."

"But seriously, Mingyu, your bed—"

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering embrace. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire. "The bed can wait," he murmurs. "Right now, I want to focus on you."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your pulse quicken. "Mingyu," you whisper, feeling the heat rise in your body again.

He tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing gently over your lower lip. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he says softly. "Especially when you're all flustered and breathless like this."

Mingyu's eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Then why don't we make a little more mess before we clean up?" he suggests, his voice a seductive whisper.

[...]

Your ex's message lights up your cellphone on the table beside the bed: "Where are you?" Mark asks. You can't help but scoff at the audacity. The nerve of him to ask after everything he's done. A surge of defiance washes over you, fueled by the memory of him flaunting Sayla around like some trophy.

Mingyu's rhythm doesn't falter as he thrusts into you from behind, his hand gripping your hair, pulling just enough to make you feel the pain on your scalp, but loving the pleasure that comes with it too. You reach for your phone, you know exactly how to answer Mark's question.

With a quick swipe, you open the camera, positioning it just right. The screen captures the sinful scene—Mingyu's defined body behind you, your flushed shoulder peeking into view, and your hair being pulled by Mingyu.

You snap the photo and attach it to the message as a single view photo.

Letting the image speak for itself.

"Here's your answer," you mutter under your breath, hitting send.

Mingyu's grip tightens, his pace quickening as he senses the shift in your mood. "What did you just do?" he asks, laughing.

You turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, a wicked smile playing on your lips. "Just answered a question," you reply, your voice breathless.

Mingyu's eyes darken with approval. "Good girl," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck, his thrusts growing more forceful. "Let's give him something to really be jealous about."

The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with the chorus of moans and gasps that fill the room. As Mingyu's hand slips down to tease your clit, your phone buzzes again, another message from Mark.

But you don't bother to check it.

3K notes · View notes

wife-of-all-dilfs · 1 year ago

Text

what friends do | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming

notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3

word count: 11.7k

Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.

Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.

Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.

District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.

You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.

However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.

But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.

Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.

"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.

Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"

"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."

Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."

To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.

"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"

"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."

You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.

He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.

The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples... wow.

He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.

Finnick Odair.

The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.

The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.

That was what everyone made him out to be.

Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?

It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.

His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.

"I'm Finnick, by the way."

The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.

You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.

Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.

You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.

At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by.

When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did.

As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...

**********

As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.

Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.

"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."

Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.

Finnick was very much a gentleman.

He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.

All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.

But there was more to it than innocent adoration.

The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.

Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.

All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.

A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.

Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.

But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?

Maybe.

However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.

Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.

Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.

He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.

There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.

You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.

It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.

You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.

This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.

As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.

"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.

Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.

That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.

"Look at thi—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief.

Damn that stupid seashell.

He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.

"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"

Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.

"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."

You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.

"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.

He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."

"No, you just don't think, Finn."

He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."

"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."

Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.

You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.

Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.

One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.

Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.

And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."

The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—

"I think..."

—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.

The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.

Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.

Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.

So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.

When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.

As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.

The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.

You sighed.

The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.

Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.

"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.

Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"

"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"

With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"

"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"

Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"

You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."

"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.

Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?

Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.

Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.

Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.

And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.

You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.

"Thinking about anyone in particular?"

You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?"

How did he keep doing that?

Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"

As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.

Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.

If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.

Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.

You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."

Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...

Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.

You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."

"Who could've guessed."

Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.

Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.

Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.

There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.

Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."

You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."

With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.

The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"

"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."

You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.

Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.

He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.

How could he?

The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.

You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.

First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.

"Stop moving."

You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.

"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.

His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.

You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?

In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"

"Fuck," he breathed out.

Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.

That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.

But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.

"...Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."

Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.

As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.

What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—

Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.

You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.

"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"

That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.

Finnick was silent.

The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.

Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.

And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."

Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.

You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.

It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.

Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.

"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.

"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"

You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.

Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"

A wave of chills ran down your entire body.

What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.

Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.

You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.

He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.

Finnick murmured your name.

"Yes?" you managed to whisper.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.

You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.

His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.

There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.

You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.

It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.

Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.

Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.

With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.

"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.

His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"

Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.

Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.

You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.

You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.

So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.

It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.

"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.

"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.

If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.

Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.

Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.

"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.

The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.

"Yes,"you practically whined.

He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.

You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.

His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.

You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.

Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.

But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.

Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"

He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.

You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.

"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."

And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.

"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."

Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.

To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties.

He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.

Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."

He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.

His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.

"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.

How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."

"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."

Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.

At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.

The moan you let out was positively filthy.

"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."

Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.

"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."

"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."

A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.

Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.

The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.

It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.

"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.

"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.

You nodded fervently.

"Say please first."

"Finn," you whined in frustration.

You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"

His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.

Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.

"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."

He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."

His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.

Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.

That is what did it for you.

You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.

"Taking it so well."

"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."

"Such a good girl."

As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.

"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.

You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.

"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."

If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.

You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him

You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.

"Hi," you whispered.

He smiled. "Hey, stranger."

He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.

You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.

Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."

You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.

"Feeling better?"

"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."

A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."

And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.

You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.

You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."

Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.

Then came the explosion.

His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.

Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.

A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.

You stayed like this for a few seconds.

"So big," you gasped against his lips.

His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"

"Never."

This was so not what friends did.

He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.

At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.

All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.

The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.

He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.

You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.

"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."

You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?

He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.

"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."

He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.

Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.

He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.

His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.

You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.

Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.

His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.

He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.

Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.

That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.

Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.

Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"

He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.

"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."

Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.

You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.

Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.

"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."

The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."

"Come inside you?"

You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.

"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."

Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.

He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.

And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.

It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.

He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.

When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.

With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.

You were gone.

"Oh fuck!"

The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.

He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.

You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.

A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.

There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.

But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.

It was a new moon.

Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal.

You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.

Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.

He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.

Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.

"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.

Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."

"For an entire hour?"

"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."

You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."

"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."

"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."

You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.

Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.

"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"

The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?

A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.

There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.

Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.

Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.

Maybe.

"That's a long time," you said.

He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."

And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."

You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.

A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.

You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.

You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.

He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.

"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.

Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?

"I love you too."

His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.

...roll credits

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xosannie · 5 months ago

Text

Ateez members that would praise or degrade you

☆genre: smut (ot8xreader)

☆word count: 1k+

☆warnings: degrading and praise (obvi), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), just a teeny little bit of biting, exhibition (through the phone), slight bondage, orgasm denial, use of sex toys, aggressive, “fucked to mush”, hair pulling, fingering, titties get sucked a bit. (Let me know if I missed any)

☆MDNI 18+ only! If these kinds of thing make you uncomfy just leave plz. Otherwise, enjoy you horny ppl :3

Praising:

Seonghwa

Seonghwa sat in his chair as you’re sucking his dick, kneeling under his desk. He caresses your hair, looking down at you, his attention—that was once on the Legos he was building, now watching the way you slowly take his length in your mouth. You look up at him with wide eyes, taking him deeper down your throat. You pull off panting loudly and stroke him faster to catch your breath. You kiss his tip before taking him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. His brows furrowed as soft moans escaped his lips. He instinctively bucks his hips as he locks eyes with you.

“That’s a good girl, there you go. You’re taking my dick so well, fuck you make me feel so good, sweetheart. Keep going.”

Yeosang

Yeosang hovers over you, his arms flexing as he supports his weight on his elbows. He fucks you with slow and deep thrusts, leaning down to kiss you softly yet passionately. With every hard thrust, the bed rocks, and hits the wall. He kisses down to your neck, sucking and biting ever so gently just to soothe the slight pain with his tongue. You whimper softly at the feeling of his mouth, and you moan his name as he gives another deep thrust. Your hands entangle in his hair as you hold him impossibly closer, wrapping your arms around his toned body. He nibbled at your earlobe before softly whispering with his gentle yet deep voice.

“You make such pretty noises, baby, keep moaning for me I want to hear you. I love fucking you so much, you’re perfect.”

Jongho

You were on FaceTime with Jongho, missing the man who was halfway across the world due to his tour. You propped your phone against a pile of pillows, legs spread wide, fingering yourself while Jongho watched through the screen. You look away, feeling slightly embarrassed being the only one naked as Jongho watched fully clothed. Even though he wasn’t there in real life, you can still feel the way he stared at you intently, which made you dripping wet even more. Jongho groans as he hears the noises of your fingers moving in and out of your wet pussy. He started to palm himself through his pants, breath growing more labored the more he watched you, wishing he could jump through the screen this very moment.

"Fuck, you look so beautiful, baby. Look at you, you’re doing such a good job fucking you’re pretty pussy. God, I wish I was the one making you feel that good.”

Degrading

Hongjoong

You were on your knees, a vibrator stuffed in your pussy and your hands were tied behind your back. You sat there trembling, begging desperately for release that Hongjoong had been denying you for what seemed like forever. He watched with amusement, sitting in front of you at the edge of his bed. His arms and legs crossed, as he gripped the controller to the toy. He could tell you were close to release again by the way your hips started rocking and your moans became more high-pitched. He smiles wide, waiting for you to get on the very edge, and right before you cum he turned the toy off with the controller. You whine desperately, on the verge of tears, body squirming as you look up at him with pleading eyes. He smirked down at you, laughing at your desperation.

"Aw, look at you, you look so pathetic, begging for me to let you cum. I bet you were really close this time, weren’t you? Well, that’s too bad, now take that toy, naughty girls like you don’t deserve my dick.”

Mingi

Mingi pinned your legs against your chest, drilling his dick in you as you lay there and took it. You moan his name loudly, eyes rolling in the back of your head. He grunts as he feels the way your pussy clenched down on his length. His thrusts were so hard and fast your brain turned to mush, the only thing you can think of was Mingi and his big dick. He throws his head back, moaning out loud, his grip on your thighs so harsh you were sure there would be bruises the next morning. He twitched inside you at the way you looked so fucked, mouth agape with a bit of drool rolling down your chin. Your hair was a mess as black streaks ran down your face, tears ruining your pretty mascara and eyeliner you had on earlier.

“Fuck, take my dick you slut, you love it, don’t you? I know you do, you’re clenching down on me so hard as if you’re afraid I’ll pull out, fucking cock slut.”

Wooyoung

Wooyoung had you bent over the kitchen counter, you reached behind, grabbing his hips, wanting to feel him deeper. He was in the middle of cooking dinner, but you decided to come in and tease him, wearing an apron and nothing else. When he saw you, his jaw practically dropped, as you would sway your hips teasingly, bending over and exposing yourself to “pick something up.” He snapped, and now here he was thrusting his now-hard dick into you, giving you what you came in the kitchen for. He gripped your hip with one hand and ran his fingers in your hair with the other, tugging at the strands, making you moan louder. He pulled your head back and leaned in while thrusting deep into your aching pussy, whispering in your ear.

“You really want my attention that bad? We already fucked this morning, but you’re such a fucking whore you need to come in here practically naked so I can give you my dick again. Such a needy little bitch.”

Praising and degrading

(My personal fav)

Yunho

You guys were in the middle of a movie night, but you grew too needy when you watched the way Yunho’s hand ran up and down your thigh. Now you were lying back on the couch, legs spread open in front of Yunho as he hovered over to you. His fingers slowly moving in and out of your dripping cunt while simultaneously pressing down on your clit with his thumb. His fingers were so long they filled you up just nicely. You reached over to grab his arm for support as you moan his name softly. He had to pin your thigh down to prevent your trembling legs from closing shut on him.

"Aw, baby, you’re so pretty like this, taking my fingers like the good slut you are. You’re so needy we can’t even watch a movie without you getting horny. That’s okay though, take my fingers, baby.”

San

San moaned loudly, resting his head against the headboard as you bounced on his length at a fast speed, riding him. He gripped your hips, guiding you up and down, his biceps flexing with every movement and a slight sheen of sweat forming on his skin. You held onto his broad shoulders, throwing your head back and moaning loudly. San bites his lip as he watches the way your tits bounce in his face. His hands ran up your body to grasp your breasts, leaning forward to take one in his mouth. You gasp and hold his head against you, loving the feeling of his tongue massaging your nipple. He moans against your skin when you clench around him, getting closer to your high.

“There you go, baby, you ride me so well. Cum on my dick like the pretty cockslut you are. Fuck, you deserve it, this slutty pussy deserves to cum.

Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed :p Let me know if I should write more stuff like this. Feel free to give recs on what you want to see next.

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez imagines #fanfic #smut #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #jongho smut #ateez oneshot #ateez ot8 #atz smut #atz scenarios #atz x reader

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cumironi · 6 months ago

Text

CAN'T YOU HANDLE IT, BABY?

satoru gojo, suguru geto. . . you are sitting there in the living room, drowning under the tongue-tied make-out sessions before your other boyfriends walk in, happily watching the two of you while touching himself.

beware : masturbating! satoru, hand-job! suguru, unprotected sex!, thigh-humping, light blowjob, doggy style, dirty talk, praise, name-calling.

w/c : 6.3k

[☆] MASTERLIST

as you find yourself nestled on the couch, you feel the warmth of suguru's lap beneath you. the soft murmur of the television creates a gentle ambiance in the room. Your hands delicately coil around suguru's neck, forming a tender connection. with a smile gracing your face, you lean in closer to the dark-haired man, closing the distance until your lips meet in a gentle, almost imperceptible touch.

you feel suguru's warm breath on your skin as you deepen the kiss, your bodies pressed close together. with suguru, the connection intensifies as you feel his warm breath caressing your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. the kiss deepens, igniting a passionate flame between you.

your bodies meld together, pressed tightly against one another as if wanting to merge into a single entity. the world around you fades away, leaving only the electrifying sensation of each other's presence. time seems to stand still as you savor this intimate moment, lost in the intoxicating embrace of your desires.

“mmmh...” he hummed as you leaned closer to him, pulling you closer to his chest. he loved it when you leaned against him— when you pressed against him... when you were close like this. one of his hands moved from your waist to your thigh, his fingers tracing over your legs with light and teasing touches. “you're enjoying yourself, aren't you?” he said in a smug tone, his hand trailing further up. he pulls away slightly to give you a beautiful smile, still face not too out of reach.

you find yourself growing flustered as his hand moves further up your thigh, his touch sending tingles through your body. his smug tone only adds to the heat spreading across your face, but at the same time, it fuels a hunger within you. you respond with a coy smile, your voice barely above a whisper, “enjoying myself? i can hardly focus on anything else when you're touching me like this.”

you bite your lip, trying to stifle a moan that threatens to escape. his hands on your bare leg are sending you over the edge, and heat pools in your lower region. you look down at him, your gaze half-lidded and sultry. suguru's smirk widens as he notices your growing blush and the way you bite your lip to hold back a moan. the sight of you looking down at him with a sultry gaze only encourages him to move his hand even further up your thigh, his touch gentle yet possessive.

“is that so?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with a seductive mix of amusement and desire. “then maybe i should keep touching you like this, just to make sure you really can't focus on anything else but me, no?” a soft, breathy chuckle leaves from his mouth, eye your lips for a second along with brushing the tip of his nose with yours.

“please. . . don't stop,” your hands ran through the long of his raven lock, soft and comforting. suguru's words send a wave of anticipation through you as he teases and tantalizes, his touch growing more deliberate as he continues to explore your body. “i love seeing you like this,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. “so responsive to my touch. It makes me want to see just how far i can push you... how much more i can make you lose yourself in the moment.”

suguru notices your flustered expression and smirks at the effect he’s having on you. the sight of you becoming more and more unraveled under his touch only adds fuel to the fire within him. his hand glides further up your leg, his fingers tracing patterns just above your inner thigh. he leans in closer, his hot breath against your ear as he whispers, “don’t hold back, i want to hear every single sound you make.”

your breath hitches as you feel his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thigh, his hot breath against your ear sending shivers down your spine. “mmh. . . s-suguru...” you moan faintly, your voice catching in your throat. his words have you on edge, your body aching for more of his touch. you tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck to him, silently begging for more. “please...” you whisper, your voice quivering with need. “don't make me wait—touch me... i want you to touch me more.”

suguru's gaze locks with yours, his eyes darkened with desire. the heat between you is palpable, and it's clear that both of you are growing increasingly desperate for each other. his hand continues to wander, tracing gentle circles on your skin, never wandering close enough to where you truly want his touch. he leans in, his voice low and filled with a hint of playfulness, “are you getting impatient, sweetheart?”

you whine softly in response, your eyes pleading with him. the way he teases you, touching you everywhere but where you desperately crave his touch, is driving you crazy. “y-yes...” you admit, your voice is trembling. “i am getting impatient. i can't take much more of this teasing. i want- no, need you to touch me, suguru. please . .” begging, word by word hurriedly left your mouth the moment you mumbled on suguru's lips. your body is taut with tension, your fingers gripping the fabric of the couch as you try to keep yourself still. the anticipation is killing you.

as Suguru chuckles softly, his heart quickens with anticipation as he witnesses your undeniable longing for him and his touch. your eyes, filled with a cloud of lust and desire, are hooded, intensifying the allure between you. a warm breath escapes your lips, gently brushing against his face, further fueling the fire within.

suguru's hands embark on a map of your body, moving from your thigh to grasp a handful of your soft rear, exerting gentle pressure. your breath catches in your throat as you feel his hand grasping— touch firm yet controlled. with a tilt of his head, he leans in and playfully nibbles on your lower lip, igniting a surge of pleasure and sending a ripple of pleasure through you.

meanwhile, your free hand roams across his well-defined stomach, his abs, tracing the contours of his chiseled muscles beneath the velvety skin— feeling the warmth and firmness of his muscles beneath your touch. the tactile sensation leaves you captivated by his sculpted physique, further deepening the desire that courses through your veins.

you press yourself closer to him, your bodies now tightly pressed against one another. the desire coursing through your veins is almost overwhelming, leaving you craving more of his touch. “suguru...” you whisper, your voice laced with need. “please. . . keep- keep touching me like that.” a low, rumbling chuckle escapes suguru's lips, the sound sending a fresh surge of heat through your body. “you're so impatient, my sweet.”

as suguru's hands glide across your body, they venture towards your back, gently urging the fabric of your shirt to shift upwards without removing it completely, showing your bare back. with tantalizing anticipation, he reveals the beauty of your chest, his eyes feasting upon the sight. meanwhile, his lips embark on a sensual expedition, tracing a path along your neck, bestowing upon you a delicate symphony of the hot path of butterfly kisses and teasing nibbles. aach touch, light as a feather, ignites a spark of desire, leaving you yearning for more of his intoxicating presence.

“but you know i can't resist you when you ask me so nicely,” he murmurs, his voice gruff. “how could i deny you anything when you ask me so sweetly?” he mumbled against your burning skin. you shiver as suguru's hands slide along your back, shifting the fabric of your shirt and revealing your chest to him. the feel of his lips on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, teasing kisses and gentle nibbles, has your body arching into his touch, desperate for more.

your breath hitches as he murmurs in his low, rough voice, his words sending a wave of desire through you. “i just . . .“ you manage to gasp, your voice trembling, “i just want...more. i need- i need to feel you. everywhere.” suguru's lips move under until he meets with the soft flesh of your breasts. his lips each by each, sloppy and sensational intertwined with your hardened and sensitive bud, taking it openly by his mouth and meeting the warmth of his tongue.

you immediately throw your head backward out of reflex, a soft moan escaping from your pretty lips— bite them to hold back any other lewd sounds as pleasure washes over you in waves, hands gripping the head of the couch to ground yourself. hour eyes close at feeling the pleasure of his tongue, and you bite down on your bottom lip. a sigh softly escapes your lips as you feel his tongue begin to tease you. “suguru..” you softly whisper.

his tongue lightly begins circling you in a slow, teasing manner. he can feel and hear your soft and sweet sighs, it’s all music to his ears. he feels your fingers run through his hair slightly pulling on it, this only encourages him to continue. his hands grasp lightly at your thighs. his nose rubs up against you as he teases every inch of you, his hands still holding you in place. “mm-mmh . .” You feel the vibration of his hum as he does so.

your free hand moves slowly from his body, leaving a trail of electricity jolt until your palm lands on his bulge, throbbing and hardened under the black tight boxer. suguru's breath hitches as you fondle his growing erection through the fabric of his boxers. his hips jerk forward slightly, seeking more contact and pressure. je gazes at you with wide, desperate eyes, his own hands trembling as they hover near your breasts, aching to touch. “please...”

a loud moan escapes suguru's lips as he suckles on your nipple, his hands reaching up to squeeze and play with your other breast. his body trembles with need as your hand touches the bulge, making his hips thrust forward instinctively. “fuck...” your warm hand maps his erection purposely, painfully slowly, touching every vein with the end of your finger as suguru throws his head back to the couch, giving the length a light squeeze before trailing down to his balls, heavy, twitching under your touch.

suguru's breathing becomes heavier as you move down his body, his hands clenching and unclenching with anticipation. when you reach his balls, he lets out a low groan, his legs spreading wider apart to give you better access. “yess . . . just like that...” feeling your warm breath against his sensitive skin sends a shiver through suguru's body, causing him to arch off the couch slightly. “ahh, fuck...” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of your fingers teasingly circling his throbbing member.

with every passing moment, his excitement grows, his heart pounding wildly within his chest. “darling,” his voice breaks into a needy whimper, “i want more . . .” Inching closer towards you, he reaches out, tracing the outline of your jawline with his fingertips. “you're driving me crazy here...”

once his dick is free from the suffocating of his tight boxer— hard and shudders as a pre cum comes out from the tip, down to his length. you sit on one of his tight as your lips continue kissing his neck, giving him a hickey and bruised. your finger wrapped around his base, moving slowly up and down.

suguru gasps sharply when your mouth latches onto his neck, the slight sting of pain only heightens his arousal. “darling. . .” he breathes out, tilting his head to grant you easier access to mark his skin with your passionate kisses. as your fingers begin stroking along the length of his rigid cock, suguru's hips buck involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction. “ahh—yes... just like that,” he pants, his hands coming to rest on your waist, fingers digging gently into your flesh.

lost in the haze of pleasure, suguru's usually stoic demeanor melts away, replaced by a raw, desperate desire for you. “more, please... i need to feel you,” he begs softly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intense, pleading gaze. you sniggle on his jaw, giving the skin a few pecks before saying, “be patient, my love, let me touch you first.” a slight biting of his adam's apple brings out a low groan from suguru.

“patience is not my strong suit right now,” suguru admits huskily, feeling a flush spread across his cheeks at your words. despite his impatience though, he complies with your request, allowing himself to be thoroughly explored and pleasured by your talented hands. the feeling of your teeth grazing against his sensitive skin sends another jolt of pleasure coursing through him. “mmm... don't stop,” he urges between ragged breaths, feeling increasingly vulnerable yet incredibly turned on beneath your ministrations.

you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, signaling satoru's return from work. your attention is immediately diverted and you turn your head to catch a glimpse of him as he enters the living room. as he steps into view, satoru's eyes fall upon the sight of suguru with you on his lap, your shirt slightly askew, exposing your chest to him. satoru's expression is a mix of surprise and intrigue.

“well, well, what have we here?” satoru teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

he takes off his blindfold and the first thing his cerulean blue eyes caught was the sight of suguru geto, head throwing back to the head of the couch as a moan and groan left his glossy lips with you kissing his neck, hands going up and down on his dick. satoru takes in the sight before him, noticing the pleasure and ecstasy etched on suguru's face as you shower his neck with kisses and caresses. his expression is one of interest, mixed with a hint of playfulness.

he saunters closer to the couch, his strides slow and deliberate, his eyes flickering between the two of you. satoru leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “hey, don't mind me,” he grins, “just enjoying the show.” you smile sweetly and greet him with love to your other boyfriends before licking down to suguru's neck while your hands move faster on his throbbing dick.

watching satoru enter the room doesn't seem to faze suguru much. instead, it appears to fuel his arousal further. his back arches even more off the couch, pressing deeper into your warm body as he gazes up at the ceiling with lust-filled eyes. “ahh, fuck...” he whimpers softly when your tongue darts out once again to trace over his sensitive skin, leaving behind a trail of wetness that contrasts starkly with the heat radiating from his body.

as satoru makes himself comfortable nearby, watching you both, suguru can't help but let loose another soft moan— this time directed more at satoru than yourself— drawing your mutual lover’s attention even more firmly onto him.

“feel good, baby? can you handle it?” you whisper in his ear. “do you love it when satoru watches you getting fuck by my hands, hm?” your honey voice usually sounds calm and happy now dripping with sensuality, filthy, suguru thinks even.

a slight squeeze from your warm grip sent suguru almost into a coma, drowning in the sea of pleasure. Your hips slowly move on his bare thigh, “can you feel me, honey?” you kiss his jaw, still smiling as your eyes never leave satoru's blue irises, “can you feel my wet pussy?” your hips move, purposely smearing your wetness all over his thigh.

suguru shudders violently under the onslaught of sensations bombarding him— the expert touch of your skilled hands working his sensitive length, the searing heat of your breath against his skin, and those tantalizing words whispered into his ear. and then there’s satoru’s presence nearby, watching them with evident fascination.

“g-god,” he groans loudly, throwing his head back further as you tighten your grip on his cock. each pulse and throb of pleasure makes him squirm delightfully on your lap. “i-i can feel everything,” he confesses hoarsely, looking towards Satoru over your shoulder.

a wide grin spreads across suguru's flushed features at the thought of what they might be doing behind closed doors— a fantasy that sends another wave of arousal surging through him. “yes... oh god, yes,” suguru's hips jerk reflexively as he feels the cool air hit his slickened thigh where your wet folds had been rubbing against him mere moments ago. . . the visual of his arousal smeared against satoru's pale skin and the knowing glint in the older man's eye is enough to push suguru closer to the edge.

“ah! yes, darling... more!” suguru demands desperation lacing his voice as he writhes beneath your touch. His hands grasp at your thighs, trying to pull you impossibly closer to his straining erection. “please— shit! i'm so close already...” suguru's eyelids flutter shut as he focuses all his attention on the building pressure inside him, each stroke of your fingers coiling tighter and tighter like a spring ready to snap.

you moan as you keep on humping suguru's thigh. satoru's long limb brings him over to behind the couch as he gets undressed, piece by piece— from his jacket uniform to his similar boxer like suguru's while a smirk is still visible on his lips as he looks down at you. your smile, your sweet, sweet smile greet him warmly as you look up.

“s-satoru . .” you moan his name.

“so pretty,” he mumbles as he kisses your lips.

“keep moaning my name baby, keep, keep moving,” he mumbles on your lips. his slightly cold finger pinches your chin. the sudden interruption of satoru's soft lips crashing against your own is like a match to dry tinder, sending suguru hurtling towards the climax with lightning speed. a choked cry rips itself from his throat, muscles tensing and releasing in rhythmic waves as you milk him dry.

“fuck, mmm. . .” his body trembles uncontrollably beneath your touches as orgasm overtakes every inch of his being— leaving him panting heavily and utterly spent underneath you on the couch. but even amidst the aftermath, suguru can't help but crane his neck upwards to steal surreptitious glimpses at their shared lover who'd just interrupted this intimate moment between them; fascination shimmering brightly within those hazel orbs despite how sated he appears now.

while your lips are deep between satoru's cold one, your hand moves faster. knowingly the twitching of suguru's dick around your palm and the shaking of his thigh under you. he is close to the edge.

suguru's entire world narrows down to the sensation of your deft fingers pumping his oversensitive shaft and the warmth of satoru's lips pressed insistently against yours. it's too much, too intense, and yet he craves more. with a sharp gasp, suguru's vision blurs at the edges as the telltale tingles begin racing up his spine once again. he tries to stave off the impending release, desperate to prolong this exquisite torment, but it's no use. his climax barrels towards him like a freight train, unstoppable and merciless.

“s-satoru, darling, ahh!” suguru cries out, arching his back sharply as the dam finally bursts inside him. his cock pulses erratically in your grip, spurting hot ropes of seed all over your hand and possibly even the couch cushions below. . . you retreat from the kiss to gaze at your other boyfriends. his chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath

collecting all the cum left with your two fingers, your other free pulling satoru by his neck. as if he understands what you were going to do, satoru stuck his tongue a little for you to gladly feed him with suguru cum before back to intertwine with his lips, his tongue pressing yours and giving you the sweet taste of suguru cum as a reward.

the sight of you feeding satoru straight from the source would've been hotter if suguru hadn't just come like a geyser all over your damn couch cushion— the sight enough to send suguru spiraling into an aftershock, his body convulsing weakly beneath you. but even though he's a quivering mess beneath you, he can't tear his gaze away from the spectacle, from the intimate display unfolding right before his eyes.

sweat trickles down suguru's forehead, trailing lines through the dusting of fluff scattered across his hairline— remnants of the previous night's sexcapades between him and satoru. yet amidst the chaos of sticky flesh and lustful.

his heart throbs painfully within his chest as a surge of love swells up inside him— an emotion so strong and consuming it threatens to choke him right then and there. he watches entranced as Satoru eagerly laps up every last drop you offer him— a silent affirmation of their shared desire for one another that leaves suguru feeling strangely fulfilled and complete.

“mmm... so good,” he murmurs dreamily, letting himself sink deeper into the plush cushions of the couch while he continues to watch the lovers exchange heated kisses filled with unspoken promises. even though suguru was thoroughly depleted after his powerful orgasm, a fresh wave of desire washed over him at the sight of his lovers indulging in such a lewd display. to see you feeding satoru straight from your palm like some kind of perverse appetizer . . . only served to fan the embers of longing flickering deep within him.

the image etched into his mind would likely haunt him later when things calmed down, but right now...right here, it just felt right. and suguru couldn't deny that he loved being part of this messed-up, passionate triangle. he wanted to continue exploring every corner it offered.

as the sensual dance of tongues slows and you pull away, the afterglow of intense satisfaction still shines bright in suguru's hazel eyes. however, his chest heaves slightly more rapidly than usual as he takes in a lungful of air. feeling satoru near you again makes him stir slightly, rolling his torso toward where satoru stands comfortably behind the couch.

“you sure know how to share our love,” he teases softly, reaching out tentatively with a shaky hand to trace idle patterns over your thigh closest to him on the couch. “why don't we move to our bedroom?” suguru suggest.

“no, let's just stay here,” you mumble.

suguru kisses your shoulder as he moves behind you and takes off your shirt to leave you with nothing underneath. you can feel his still-hard dick press against your ass. suguru nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of your skin mixed with the musk of their combined arousal lingering in the air. his lips trail up your jawline, leaving a warm path of desire etched into your flesh. as he pulls back, suguru gazes deeply into your eyes, his expression open and loving.

“my sweetheart, are you certain you wouldn't prefer the comfort of our bed?” he asks tenderly, though the hardness of his still-erect cock grinding slowly against your buttocks belies his true intentions. suguru knows all too well how you enjoy playing rough and dirty when caught up in the throes of passion— and right now, his desires are burning brighter than ever.

“positive,” you answer.

suguru pushes your back until both of your palms rest against the headboard, eye-to-eye with satoru's dick as you look up at him while the white-haired man is already looking down at you, eyes glassing with hunger, eyeing you like nothing but prey for his to savor. suguru push your hip upward, flashing him with your wet pussy. “beautiful,” he smiles, lightly spank your ass. “arch your back for me, baby?” he asks before pushing his dick into your dripping wall.

at suguru's command, you obediently arch your back, presenting yourself fully to him. your heart pounds wildly in your chest as anticipation courses through your veins, making every nerve ending tingle with excitement. feeling the head of his hard length tease against your entrance sends a shudder rippling across your form. then, with a low groan of pleasure, suguru thrusts forward, burying himself deep inside you.

the sensation is indescribable— the heat, the pressure, the sheer fullness that has you gasping aloud. yet despite the intensity of it all, there's something comforting about having both men surrounding you— supporting and loving you unconditionally . . .

your hips buck involuntarily against him as he begins to set a slow rhythm— each thrust pushing him further into your slick depths while also rubbing delicious friction against sensitive spots hidden within your core. suguru's eyelids flutter shut as he loses himself in the velvety embrace of your clenching walls. every subtle undulation of your inner muscles feels like a personal caress, urging him to lose control and fuck you with wild abandon.

“gorgeous,” he whispers hoarsely, punctuating his words with a particularly deep, forceful plunge. “love watching my dick disappear into your tight cunt,” gis hands come to rest on your waist, gripping possessively as he increases the pace of his thrusts. the room fills with the symphony of slapping skin and ragged breaths, an erotic soundtrack to the lewd act playing out before satoru's hungry gaze.

suguru leans down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss as he continues to rut into you with primal desperation, his tongue mimicking the brutal motion of his hips. watching you being taken from behind, satoru’s dick pulses painfully with need. he reaches down, stroking himself faster as he lets out soft moans of approval. seeing suguru buried balls-deep inside your wet warmth is enough to make even this normally reserved man succumb to base instincts.

a bead of precum forms at the tip of his dick, sliding down its length in thick rivulets. with each pump of his hand, more clear fluid oozes forth— coating his fingers and soaking into the fabric covering his lap. but it isn’t just the visual stimulation that has him panting like a horny teenager; it’s also knowing that suguru gets to see exactly how much he loves watching them together.

“god... i could watch you get fucked like this all day,” satoru groans out between heavy pants, trailing kisses down your spine while his fist moves frantically. suguru’s voice grows more husky with each word as he praises your beauty and flexibility, his cock twitching inside you in response. he relishes the way your pert rear bounces with every powerful thrust, your soft cheeks rippling enticingly as he fucks you senseless.

“fucking hell, you're taking me so well,” he grunts, sweat beading on his brow from exertion. “love seeing my fat cock stretch you wide open, sweetheart.” withdrawing almost completely, suguru slams his dick back in, the force of his renewed assault making you cry out in ecstasy. “oh . . my. god,” you cried, back arches sharply, pressing your lips against satoru's straining erection once more. this time, as suguru starts pounding into you at a frenzied pace, you can taste the salty tang of satoru's precum mingling with your own essence on your tongue.

suguru grunts in appreciation as he feels your slick walls clench around him, milking his shaft with each powerful thrust. his own movements become more erratic, driven by the intoxicating sight of you taking him so willingly, your face flushed with pleasure and your eyes glazed over in bliss. “oh, fuck yes... look at you, so perfect for us,” he growls, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining his rhythm. “taking my cock like a good little slut, aren't you?”

“y-yes, please.”

as if to emphasize his point, suguru reaches around to rub your clit in time with his strokes, sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your trembling form. the added stimulation proves to be the final straw, and you can feel your climax building at breakneck speed.

“come on, baby, show me those tits!” satoru whining. encouraged by satoru's eager plea, you throw your head back and let out a loud moan, giving in to the overwhelming sensations flooding your body. your breasts jut out proudly, nipples hardened into peaks begging for attention.

“that's it... show off for us,” suguru commands, smacking one plump mound before leaning down to capture a nipple between his teeth. a sharp intake of breath escapes him as he suckles on the sensitive bud vigorously, drawing it deeper into his mouth while continuing to pound relentlessly into your dripping slit below.

your orgasm hits like a freight train, causing your entire frame to convulse violently as waves upon waves of pleasure crash over you. suguru rides out your climax alongside you, his own release imminent as he finally gives in to the overwhelming urge to fill you up.

“you're going to cum for us, aren't ya?”

“p-please, i wanna cum,” you begged.

“you're such a good girl. . .” suguru murmurs appreciatively, leaning down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth. a sharp tug sends sparks shooting straight to your core, amplifying the growing coil of tension there. his fingers work tirelessly on your clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive bud while driving you closer and closer toward obliviation. each stroke draws another moan from deep within your throat— loud enough for both men to hear clearly.

as suguru's relentless pounding drives you closer and closer to the edge, you can barely think straight. all rational thought leaves your mind as waves of pleasure ripple through your body. and then, without warning, everything snaps into focus.

“suguru... i'm—” you whimper, unable to finish your sentence. your body trembles under their combined weight, each thrust driving deeper than the last until it feels like you're being split apart from within. suddenly, without warning, your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave. your pussy clenches tightly around suguru's throbbing member as pleasure explodes throughout your entire being, rendering you momentarily speechless.

“s-shit!” you cry out loudly, throwing your head back and letting loose a series of high-pitched screams that echo throughout the room. as your pussy spasms wildly around his thrusting cock, suguru's climax crests, triggering a torrent of hot semen to flood your insides. “there . . . my, good baby,” he groans deeply, the sound muffled against your breast as he buries his face in your cleavage, his hips stuttering erratically as he empties himself into you.

through it all, satoru watches intently, his dick throbbing with need as he frantically jerks himself off, coating his fist in copious amounts of precum. the sight of suguru losing control and filling you up is too much for him to bear, and with a strangled cry, he finally allows himself to cum, painting his stomach with thick ropes of jizz as he rides out his intense orgasm.

suguru's grip tightens on your hip as he rides out his orgasm, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you up with his warm seed. each spurt sends another wave of pleasure coursing through his body, causing him to shudder uncontrollably. his breathing comes in ragged gasps as he slowly regains control over his senses, doesn't get a chance to pull his dick out before your pussy clenches around and slightly leans down towards satoru, taking his dick into your mouth as you clean his cum.

satoru's eyes widen in surprise as he feels your mouth envelop his still-hardening cock, but he doesn't protest. instead, a low moan escapes his throat as he leans back against the pillows, enjoying the sensation of your warm, wet tongue lapping up the remnants of his release. satoru looks on, a mix of awe and desire etched on his features as he watches you service his boyfriend so eagerly. his own spent cock twitches in response, already beginning to stir anew at the erotic display unfolding before him.

satoru lets out a low moan as he feels your lips enveloping his still-hard length, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your back. “that's right, take care of me,” he whispers huskily, his voice laced with satisfaction and arousal. he watches with half-lidded eyes as you bob your head up and down along his shaft, cleaning away every trace of his cum. the sensation of having you suckle on him after such an intense session sends another surge of desire coursing through him.

“mmm, just like that, baby,” suguru encourages, gently guiding your head as you bob up and down along his length. “show satoru what a good little cocksucker you are.” satoru lets out a low moan as he feels your lips enveloping his still-hard length, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your back.

feeling your lips envelop his still-hard length ups and downs, satoru lets out a low moan of satisfaction. je leans back against the back of the couch, his fingers gently combing through your hair as you take care of cleaning him up. “god, that feels incredible,” he murmurs appreciatively, his other hand lightly stroking your cheek. “you really know how to take care of a man, don't you?” his glossy lips flashing you a lazy smile.

suguru fell on the couch beside you, watching you going up and down toward satoru with your knees buried in the soft material. the sight of you kneeling between them, taking care of both their needs simultaneously is enough to make suguru's heart swell with pride and affection. he reaches out a hand, brushing it gently over your backside as he watches you work diligently on satoru's cock.

“just look at you,“ he purrs approvingly, his gaze locked onto the erotic scene unfolding before him. “so beautiful and devoted.” his thumb brushes teasingly over the sensitive skin just above where datoru enters your mouth, adding another layer of sensation to an already overwhelming experience. despite being thoroughly spent, there's no denying that seeing you like this has reignited something deep within him.

you pull satoru's dick out of your lip with a ’bop', cleaning all of his cum from his dick. a satisfied hum vibrates out of satoru's lips. his thumb gently caresses your lower lips before licking the remaining cum, smiling as you flop beside suguru with satoru following along beside you. your eyes are closed as you try to catch your breath. with a contented sigh, satoru leans back against the couch, his chest heaving slightly as he catches his breath. his eyes remain fixed on you, a warm, appreciative smile playing on his lips.

“thank you, baby,” he says softly, reaching out to gently stroke your cheek once more. “you always know just what to do to make me feel so good.” suguru moves to sit up properly, his gaze never leaving yours. there's a spark of desire in his eyes, a promise of more to come.

“so, what do you say we order some pizza and watch a movie together? we can cuddle up on the couch and just relax for a bit,” he suggests, his voice low and inviting. “unless you have something else in mind, of course...” satoru kisses your shoulder “let her rest first baby, she is doing a great job today,” suguru chirped, sweeping away the sweat on your forehead. he leans down to give the white-haired man a wholehearted peck.

satoru nods in agreement, leaning over to press a gentle kiss on suguru's lips. “you're right, let's give her a break for now,” he agrees, his voice soft and soothing. “we can always have another round later if she's up for it.” he turns his attention back to you, offering you a warm, comforting smile. “why don't you go take a nice long bath and relax for a while? we'll bring you some food and snacks, and then we can curl up together on the couch for a movie marathon.”

you were panting softly, your vision still a little hazy from the intense pleasure. your body felt both tired and relaxed. you took his suggestion gladly, knowing you needed to take it slow. “that sounds lovely,” you responded, sitting up, still feeling a bit lightheaded. “can you help me get up?” satoru smiles softly, immediately moving to your side to help you up, carefully wrapping an arm around your waist to support you.

suguru helps satoru assist you up from the floor, supporting you gently as you wobble on shaky legs. “there's my good girl,” suguru coos, guiding you toward the bathroom. “go take care of yourself, we've got everything under control here.”

“look at you, always so sensitive even when we are gentle with you,” he teases, giving your shoulder a light kiss. you let out a soft huff as you roll your eyes, but secretly enjoy the teasing. “and you two are always so demanding,” you respond with a hint of sass, trying to maintain your usual banter. satoru chuckles, his shoulders shaking slightly as a laugh. “hey, can you blame us? you always look and sound too damn good when we touch you,” he responds, giving your waist a small squeeze.

your blush deepens at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and flattery. you try to brush it off, replying with a slightly sarcastic tone. “oh, shut up and get me to the bathroom already.” suguru is walking behind both of you, shaking his head fondly. they both knew just how to push your buttons in the best ways possible.

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belovedcloud · 6 months ago

Text

Such A Sweetheart

pairing: sugar daddy! leon kennedy x fem! reader

✎ synopsis: you need money quick, and what's a good way of getting quick money? a sugar daddy. you find a man but he treats you so good that maybe this may blossom into something other than a transactional relationship?

✎ notes: this is a longgggg one, i decided to try making a long one and writing this up at work every day for weeks was a struggle but i did it! if only sugar daddy leon was real :(

➤ WC: 10K

➤ CW: age gap, reader is in low 20's whilst leon is low 40's, talks about leon's alcohol struggles and practically his life, reader wears a dress, oral, fingering, dirty talk kinda??? not really, lots of kisses, maybe something more than a sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship, p in v, cumming on you, fluff at the end.

MINORS DNI!

Leon Scott Kennedy was a dirty man. That's how he saw himself. The masses of bioweapons he killed every mission tarnished his being. There was no escape for him. Nothing could save him from what he saw fit for his life. All he could ever be was tool for the government, someone who they could rely on each time to discard the tragedies of the world. They didn't care who they affected, as long as the government were safe that's all that mattered.

Leon knew that. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave. Leaving the job behind was a massive no. What if something happened? What if another incident like Raccoon City occurred?

He was bound to everything of horror. Gore, blood, death. He had seen it all, he had experienced it all. The killings of his superior, Jack Krauser alongside the dumpster of death that trailed beside Leon. It was his shadow. All he could do was bare with it. Nothing could save him, until you came around.

You needed money - just being able to live was costly and jobs were going left, right and centre. No matter what you did, you couldn't grab a job. It was out of your reach. You flooded every company with applications; they were bound to have known you by now. Despite that, an interview was never handed to you. Rent was coming up and what else could you do?

Find a sugar daddy? It was your only choice so... yeah. You were going to find a sugar daddy.

Doing some research and finding out that there were multiple sites to find one. Clicking on the top site, sugardaddykwiky.com, brought you to profiles of many men. Many older men. You weren't going to be picky, there was no time to pick and choose who you wanted.

Clicking on your profile, you start to upload pictures of yourself. No explicit ones, just ones of your face and a safe for work full body image of yourself. Furthermore, to try and attract more men you type a little description about you. This would entice for men right? Soon enough, your little question was answered. Yes. Men flooded your messages, nearly all of them sending the same message of 'Hey' with a pet name in front of it. Maybe you were going to be picky, they all weren't that attractive. Extremely plain and non-lovable.

Reminding yourself that this wasn't a dating site but a site of seeking money you required, your fingers continued to scroll until a request popped up at the top of the screen.

['LSKENNEDY' wants to chat!]

Leon was shitting himself. He didn't know why or how he was so nervous but it was linked to you. You looked so sweet and innocent, no explicit images nor anything sexual of the sort. It wasn't his type of thing to see tits shoved in his face or somebodies legs spread across the camera. You were different. It was as though you weren't just selling your body to get quick cash.

Scrolling down he read your interests. His eager eyes scanning through your description once then again, and again. Continuously reading before taking a glance at the few pictures he was granted to see of you. He drank in your face, such pretty features plastered on you made his heart flutter.

If you were to take him as your sugar daddy, he made a mental promise to himself that he would take you out on countless dates. Spoil you rotten until you couldn't take it anymore. All it came down to was luck.

Leon was lonely. He was a lonely man. The thought of you brought a sliver of solace into his body. Perhaps you could distract him from chaotic life he lived in. Leon craved love not lust. A deep groan left his lips as he knocked back another glass of whiskey. The malty liquid seeping into the lines of his lips, travelling down his throat. His phone was no longer bright, it was pitch black. A reminder of how his life was.

Before Raccoon City, Leon dreamt one day he would find a love that would course though his life. A deep affection that would last for many years. Decades even. The proposal of a family was always deep in Leon's mind when he was younger. Sure, it was stored away as he didn't find himself to be fit for family life at such a young age... But he knew he would want one some day.

That suggestion slowly dissipated when he gradually got older. He still kept some of his features, that being his dirty blonde hair or his baby blue eyes. But they were permanent. His youthful skin creased and aged overtime and a stern look was etched into face. Completely juxtaposing what he looked like 20 years ago. Yet, your face lingered in his mind as he downed another glass of whiskey.

His phone still remained off as he stared into the wall in front of him. To any normal person it would have been a blank chantry coloured wall. Leon saw it differently as depictions of you clouded his head and vision.

What the fuck was going on with him?

Was this a joke? He believed it was his mind playing tricks on him due to excessive amount of alcohol he consumed. Even after chugging a glass of water to try and sober himself, he still saw you. It annoyed him but not only annoyance filled him. A sense of peace too. The two feelings juxtaposed each other, as if they were fighting to see who would win.

Leon got up, trying to distract the inner conflict he faced. Closing the curtains and sitting in a room of absolute darkness. To no avail the image of you popped up. A growl scrapped his lips as he rubbed his face. His body slouched on the couch, rolling his head back as another noise vacated from him.

He had to do something.

Smacking down the couch he sat on with his calloused hand, he yearned to find his phone. The device jumped up slightly from the force of Leon's actions - soon enough he snatched it up. His thumbpad drummed the screen twice, the light penetrating his eyes as he staggered to find the power button.

"Fucking hell.." A squinted look appeared on his face whilst he scrolled the brightness down. Leon's dull eyes pried at his device, swiping up just to see you again. Fuck. He didn't delete the tab.

You looked gorgeous. An angel in his eyes. Even though you were young and in your low 20's. His mind processed the information once again. Should he feel ashamed? Disgusted? Was he at fault for wanting something romantic with you - even if you were 2 decades younger than him? Surely not, you were of legal age and willing put yourself on the website. The underlying feeling of guilt was questionable to him.

This wasn't wrong per se. It just felt like it.

His leg quivered slightly, his calve continuously smacking the bottom of his couch. Leon's eyes peered into the screen. Why was he so nervous? Get a grip, he thought to himself. A deep sigh left his lips as minutes passed - no response from you.

Your eyes flickered on his profile, an older man of course but... God was he handsome. His blue eyes called out to you, alluring you in to look at his other features. How was a man so beautiful? Early 40's nor did his description have anything sexual. It was quite basic - the perception of secrecy interweaved in it.

Nervously, the pads of your fingers moved subconsciously. Your body scrambled into your bed. The comfort of it didn't ease your heart as you clicked [Accept Request].

Leon's fingers kept refreshing the website to see if you had accepted his request. To his surprise and pleasure, you did. His heart pounded deeply within him, his shaky movements transferred himself into the chat. The miniature profile icon of your face made him go into awe. Your face was truly hypnotic. His lips pressed against the rim of his glass, shakily holding it to his lips to a point where the glass clattered against his teeth.

Leon decided the best option was to at least start the conversation off. What could he say? Perhaps the best option would to go down the basic route, however, by now you must have had multiple men just saying the same thing over and over again. His gaze focused on his phone, his eyes practically burning through the keyboard glazing over the letters trying to figure out a way to wow you.

The constant overthinking led him to not even figuring out a message to send you as your chat-box appeared on his mobile. Frowning to himself, he thought he was pathetic to a point where he couldn't even type to you. He wasn't this nervous in real life so what was going on now? In others eyes, he had charisma even when talking to a few women... But even a simple text message to you and he was about to piss himself.

Your fingers swiftly left a message, you even felt yourself getting nervous. The other chats you faced with different men usually led to the route of using your body to please them. Or they sent their half limped dick positioned in the middle of their palm trying to turn you on. It could be that this Leon Kennedy guy would contrast them. A twinge of hope stay put in your heart to hope so.

After all, he was hot.

You: hi! :)

Leon: Hey sweetheart, how are you?

It was a basic way to start of the conversation. Pretty pathetic in Leon's eyes but he had no idea on what else he could say. A shaky breath left his lips, adjusting himself on his couch trying to get cozy. The pads of his fingers tapping impatiently on the phone case. The inkling of worry still lingered within him as his mind reminded him of your age.

Instantly, a message came through on his behalf. Leon wasted no time to read over your message, he felt like a teenage boy again.

'For Christ sake... Keep it together.'

You: i'm alright, i saw that you aren't really like those other men on here. you're not like showing your dick in your profile or something.

A low laugh erupted from Leon's lips. You did see him different and honestly good. He wasn't one for going straight into the sexual stuff. Even at his age, early 40's and all, he still craved the affection you would receive in a normal relationship. He knew the love would be dependent on the money he sent you - it was better than no love at all.

Typing back with a small smile on his face, his legs uncontrollably stood him up. He walked over to his room, the light thud following him ominously. A dim light covered his figure as he sat down on the edge of his bed, hitting send.

Leon: We'd only get into that if you want to, but I prefer us to know each other a bit more. Don't you?

To say Leon was correct was an understatement, it was like a breath of fresh air. Whilst you wouldn't mind getting in his pants, for a man to not want sex sex sex was refreshing. Yes, it was the bare minimum. Did it make you way more interested though? Absolutely.

A giddy wave of happiness spread into your veins as you kicked your legs up and down. An actual conversation! You could even feel yourself becoming slightly turned on. A little wet patch forming in the middle of your panties. God.. Was this really happening now? Getting turned on by the bare minimum a man could offer?

You: yeah, i would honestly :) it's really refreshing to see someone wanting to talk

The conversation prolonged for an hour or two, both of you understanding the boundaries that Leon and you put place to make this agreement as comfortable as possible. Nonetheless, you were happy with how he was and Leon was ecstatic to know you better. Regardless of the cost that came with it.

He believed that a person like you deserved to spoilt rotten. Just the way you acted with such grace - you were heavenly. Someone who he was happy enough to show you the wonders that money could give you. Alongside his love, but Leon was nervous. He was nervous that you wouldn't understand why he would be gone for days at a time with no response. There was no way in hell he would be able to just tell you straight up that he worked for the DSO. Let alone that he killed B.O.W's.

He pushed his thoughts aside realizing he hadn't even told you how much he would pay you for your time with him. Texting a quick message, he chewed on his bottom lip. The dull ache of it pumping, giving it a faux heartbeat. Pressing send, he groaned into his pillow. The scent of soft linen contrasted the smell of alcohol that loitered on his bedside table. His backup bottle of whiskey awaiting for him to gulp it down like usual.

Instead he resisted, not relying on the alcohol to knock him out. Leon didn't want to drink himself to sleep like usual, he wanted to chat to you a little longer.

It was hard for him to get used to the slang and language you used, back in the 90's the way of communication was way different. After a few key points of explaining he got the meaning of it all. Reminiscing on what you both were talking about moments before - he read back his last message.

Leon: So how much money do you want for your time?

A very simple question for a very simple answer. Wrong. Not in your eyes anyways. You felt bad if you requested too much, you didn't even know how much he made nor how much he had currently. This in itself was the riskiest part of the deal. Would he think you were just a gold digger? Genuine fear paced around you, he wasn't a man who you just wanted to fuck to get money from. Perhaps you were being delusional but you seriously wanted to get to know him. Even perhaps have a relationship blossom between the both of you. Or was that too much to ask for?

Being a sugar baby wasn't toilsome. Whilst you would make him happy, he would reward you with gifts, money.. deep down you even wanted some pleasure. Plausibly, you began to think that Leon would think you were some brat. Even to a point where he'd believe you were some dumb bimbo cock slut who needed cash.

Shit. You needed to reply quick.

Leon was wondering to himself if he did something wrong. Was his question too straight-forward? Too dry? He was always told he wasn't the best at texting. That his texting habits seemed as though he was uninterested at any topic he would text about. He blinked continuously at the screen, this was his first time even trying to get a sugar baby. Were you no longer interested?

He needed your attention, after getting to know you over text he longed to understand more of you. What was it you really wanted? Cash or love? Was it that you were corroded with lust and needed to get dicked down or did you want something romantic? In all honestly both options together sounded like the perfect relationship to Leon. A couple who would love each other both ways, sexually and romantically. That's how a relationship works right? In his eyes anyways.

Leon's mind was clouded with random scenarios of you and him both. He wanted to try all of them out, some less naughty than others but all of them were good in his eyes. Shopping dates getting what you wanted or his head between your thighs giving you what you needed. He felt his jeans tighten around his crotch area. Fuck. Was he really getting off to the idea of just making you happy? Leon's hand travelled down to his bulge. A light squeeze only makes it harden more - can you blame him? You were so beautiful and all he wanted was to treat you right.

A heavy groan elicited out of Leon's throat, waiting for you to respond as he tried to calm himself down. He yearned for your answer. The bouncing of the 3 dots encased around a text bubble enabled Leon to let out a sigh of relief. Taking a deep breath, he eagerly watched for the message he needed.

You: i really don't mind, i don't want to seem greedy or anything so you can choose how much to give me! :)

Shit. How sweet could a girl be? Not only did you agree to be his sugar baby but you didn't mind how much he would pay you for your time? Leon's throat was dry as he took in another breath, trying to calm the bundle of nerves rising inside of his body. His fingers lightly tapped the glass screen in front of him, juxtaposing his thudding heart.

Being a government agent, despite all the trauma from his missions and the devastating events such as in Spain or in China. It gives a hefty sum of money. With the title of 'Government Agent' hung over him, he could afford to spend thousands on you. And he would.

Leon: Don't worry love, how about $1000 for our first meet up? Plus I'll get you whatever you want after a nice lunch. How does that sound?

$1000?! That was basically your rent done minus some utility bills. For one day? Not even a day, a few hours! That was more than what any job paid you for 2 weeks. Shuffling to lay comfortable in your bed, your fingers uncontrollably type a message to Leon showing your thanks to his generosity.

You: $1000?? you really don't have to give me that much but if you do then i really appreciate it! when are you next free?

A small smile appeared on Leon's lips as he read your text back, his body slightly shook from excitement as his eyes traced over your message. He was free most of the time... Well, when he wasn't fighting for his life that is. Leon's missions were quite sporadic at times, not allowing him to have a proper work schedule. In this situation, it was an annoying thing to explain - nonetheless, he wouldn't be able to tell you about it just yet.

His job was risky. Risky business that he didn't want to get you involved in.

Something always hung above Leon's head. Never once in his life after 1998 did he get any peace of mind. It was pure torture to live sometimes. A straight bullet in the head would have ended everything for him. Within Leon, there was a feeling of perseverance. He wasn't allowed to die. Who else could kill the bioweapons and destructive beings that tormented the planet? If only he didn't sign up to go to Raccoon City. That fateful night changed his whole perspective on life. A renewed thought process that could kill the normal human. He himself didn't understand how he could cope. The only answer to him was alcohol, day and night. Bottles stashed in places to feed into his intoxicated addiction.

It saved him; it killed him.

You could perhaps cure the chaos and wreck that occurred in his mind. He was fixated on you. Purely you. He would guide you through the sugar baby life, hand you anything you wanted. Just for your love. Whether or not it was real love, Leon didn't seem to mind. Well - not on the surface at least.

Alone in his apartment, slowly becoming uncomfortable with the solitude that laid next to him. He typed out a message, hoping to see you tomorrow. Next week at the latest. Leon needed a change from his mundane life. Only you could expedite a change within his character.

You were the answer.

Leon: I'm free tomorrow, I can pick you up at noon.

Trailing over the message, you couldn't wait to see him. The whole purpose of tonight was to find a sugar daddy, you got one but he seemed different. Separate from the other lustful men you met on this site. In fact he was different from any man you have ever met. The long hours of the night that you usually had was replaced with a conversation that uplifted your mood and your bank.

Nimble fingers tapped on the keyboard, the phone screen lighting up your face - highlighting the little upturned expression you had plastered on. Impatient to see Leon, you send a fast response back. Demonstrating your need to meet him.

You: okay! i'll see you then, goodnight <3

Feeling happy in your heart, it seemed as though he filled a little hole in your heart. As well as the dissipating view of constant stress you had thinking about your rent due for the month. Things finally started lifting up for you. Maybe now you wouldn't think that you were going to develop wrinkles and grey hairs at such an early age. Being a sugar baby didn't seem all that bad. Flourishing at such a young age without the worry of lack of money seemed good in your books. Granted that others may think lowly of you, who were you to care about someone else's opinion when you prosper in the generosity that Leon was going to bring to you.

A impending thought built within you. This was morally right... right? Taking a lonely mans money didn't really feel like the best idea especially when reading back on the conversation you realized he wasn't some sex freak. He just craved to love and be loved. Were you able to bring him that satisfaction?

A soft smile appeared on Leon's face as he read your message, tomorrow he would be able to meet you. See that pretty face that he's been thirsting to look at for the past few hours of chatting. His fingers constantly tapping on the mini picture next to your chats to zoom into your face. He couldn't get enough of you. His mind purely fixated on you and only you. Was this a curse or a blessing?

Once switching off his phone, he again sat in isolation. Dejection spread all over him as a deep sigh scraped his throat. Why was he always so alone? Even laying in bed for an hour never made it warm, his side cold and the empty space next to him was practically frozen. Leon was going through a rough patch in his life - this patch being 20 years was excessive but he honestly couldn't get out of it. Chained down to his own solitude and remoteness of his home was too much.

Too much for a singular man who just wanted a family of his own one day.

Laying in his own self loathing, Leon breaths slowly mellowed. Keeping himself calm, taking his mind off you slightly - attempting to sleep. To no avail, he still couldn't tranquil his racing heart. A shaky breath soon followed as he crumbled into the soft sheets he bought for himself. Rich and silky cloth immersed his silhouette, his hand over his chest. Leon could feel his heart. Pumping and pumping, the skittish irregular heart embodied his attitude to the situation at hand. Fluttering his eyelids shut, the scenarios of you and him started all over again. Just this time, they felt more real. You were within his reach as his mind continue to run with excitement, love and pure unadulterated desire.

That night, he didn't have a nightmare. No horror; no fear. There wasn't a dream per se, it was just a night of sleep.

Leon's face wasn't twisted with a frown, his lips were slightly parted. Slowly drying as he huffed out a few breaths in his sleep. Dirty blonde locks covering his eyes as a peaceful expression smothered him. The recurring night terrors of Raccoon City didn't appear tonight. Nightmarish prospects didn't shine through his soundless mind to haunt him. The zombies? Gone. The blood? Gone. All remained was a man who just deserved tranquility.

Tonight, he got what he was entitled to.

The blinding sun peeked through Leon's blinds, his body thanked him for the rest. No aching muscles like usual, he leisurely pried his eyes open, a quiet yawn eliciting out of his mouth. God, how late was it? Leon stretched his body whilst he adjusted himself to the light shining through, practically blinding him at first. His fingers tapped against the smooth wood nightstand as he searched for his phone wearily. Clasping his hand around the device he held it to his chest, switching it on to check the time. The bold numbers spoke to him, highlighting 09:30 AM.

Groaning to himself, he got up rubbing his eyes tiredly. Leon got a full nights rest. Unusual but needed a small smile laced his face as he realized what he had to do today. He was going to see you for the first time.

Swinging his legs out of bed, cracking a few places in his bed. A sigh of relief left his lips. Getting up was always the hardest part of his day but today it was the easiest knowing he was looking forward to something which wasn't work related. This time, it was to seek your love, to treat you to whatever you wanted - he was happy to do that. Overjoyed even.

For you it was no different, well except your rapid heartbeat when you realized that this was real. That you were going to see your sugar daddy. Could you even call him that right now? You had to ensure that you looked your greatest for today, it was the least you could do as this man was literally paying you for being there.

Doing your casual routine was normal as usual, your fingers just a little bit shaky from the nerves that coursed through your veins. Hindering your movements slightly as you felt yourself get jumpier by the second. Going through your closet, you choose something you don't really seem to wear often. A dress. A flowy one, he'd like that right? Taking a wild guess and praying to whoever is above you threw it on and fixed up your hair. Midway through, the mobile device on the counter buzzed, catching your attention.

Rinsing and drying your hands, you snatched the phone up and inspected the notification that stood out to you. It was him. You felt your body heating up, your eyes tracing the message.

Leon: I'm outside sweetheart, hope you sent me the right address. :)

Fuck. Outside already? You retract that statement as you swiped down to check the time. Oh. It was already noon. Checking yourself in the mirror, your legs rush downstairs as you put on a pair of heels. You had psych yourself up to even see him. Looking through the little peephole, you saw him.

He was just as handsome as he was online. Even more so in real life. Your heart was pounding, he could probably hear it across the door. Tremulously, your fingers wrapped around your door handle, slightly pushing it down to open the door. Fuck, you got this. It was only a date, and all you had to do was act normal. Normal and sweet. Leon picked you for a reason!

The moment he saw you, his breath hitched. He nearly choked with the air that stood in his throat, his eyes travelling down your figure with the dress that hugged your curves but still flowed with the slight current hitting your body. Leon couldn't believe it, seeing you was heaven right in front of him. A sense of desire permeated his body, longing to touch you. To make you his - he had to stay put. For his own sake.

"Wow, uh hi." A mumble left Leon's throat soon after he cleared it. Nervous couldn't even elucidate his very being after being blessed to even look at you. It wasn't only him with a stomach full of knots wondering if this day was going to turn south.

"Hey, you look... good?" You chuckled out awkwardly. Great start. Embarrassed within yourself, you try and think of something else to say but Leon's words cut through your thoughts. His voice is smooth and rich, like honey, a slight rasp laced in the tone which allures you in.

"Thank you sweetheart, you look beautiful." Too beautiful. His hands slightly twitched, a hunger in Leon wanting to ravish you as his eyes inadvertently trailed down your figure again. Heat bloomed in both of you, eyes practically fucking each other but who was going to act first?

Taking you to his car, Leon's hand glided over the passenger door handle, opening it up for you. A small smile plastered on his lips as his gravelly voice welcomed you in. The leather feel of the car seat hugged your body, adjusting yourself to strap yourself in. Leon soon entered after as he pulled the seatbelt over himself - turning on the ignition at the same time. A comfortable silence hung in the air as the vehicle took you to where Leon wanted to treat you. One hand on the wheel and the other clasping the gearshift to make the ride as smooth as possible.

"Do you want lunch first or do you want to go shopping?" His voice sliced through the tranquility that once lay around you both. Oh wow, so he was serious on treating you? Fiddling with your thumbs you wondered to yourself how you should answer him. Your stomach answered for you very quietly as you looked out the window.

"Lunch, if that's okay?" Your response back made Leon smile as he took a swift turn left, rolling into a small family owned diner. The aesthetically pleasing restaurant enticed you as he guided you inside. Opening the door for you and making the cliché comment 'Ladies first.' The place itself was cozy and warm, a welcoming aura embedded within it as you sat down at one of the booths. Leon, sat across from you, couldn't help but flicker his gaze on you every once in a while as you looked on the menu.

"Found anything you like?" He asked as he flipped through the menu himself, eyeing on the steak pictured in the booklet. His blue eyes soon bored into yours when you met his gaze. A soft smile resting on your face.

"Yeah, I think I know what I want." The softness of your voice was a melody to Leon. A voice that could calm him down even when he felt so nervous just seeing you. A channel of peace that he needed, a tune that could calm him even through the horrors that he faced.

Lunch went smoothly, the chatter amongst you two eased out into a blossoming relationship. Far better than just texting over two measly devices. Leon's gaze wondered over you as you spoke, completely in awe as he thanked himself for going on the website yesterday night. Your beauty surpassed all beings, inside and out you were gorgeous in his eyes. The interests you both shared in music tastes, hobbies and whatnot brought you both together. As if there was chemistry between you two, that idea that you already knew each other so well. You didn't just seem like a sugar baby in his eyes - you were someone who he sought love in. A person who Leon wanted to cherish in every way. The same concept lingered within you too, his presence calmed you down but comforted you in ways you didn't know were possible. He was your sugar daddy, yours.

Still, you and Leon wanted something more with each other. Desires that needed to be satiated soon.

Leon's card pinged as he paid for the meal, the waiter giving his thanks for the generous tip he left. Seeing him waltz off with the tray in his hand. Love filled your body watching Leon treat others so nicely. Fuck. You were falling fast. Too fast that it was scarily fun. His dirty blonde hair covering his eyes ever so slightly, his clean hands slotting the card back into his wallet. The slight veins protruding out, allowing your eyes to travel up his exposed forearms. Moles littered all over them alongside some arm hair.

His watch gleamed from the LED lights above you both, your eyes trailed all over him. This didn't go unnoticed as a little smirk plastered Leon's face. He was about to speak until the waiter came back.

"Here, it's on the house. Candy bags for both of you." The waiter grinned, placing two bags of candy in front of you. Candy? I mean, free candy is always nice. Thank you's left your mouth and Leon inspected the candy inside. Lollipops, hard candy, chewy... Before he looked up, he heard a wrapper rustle.

Your fingers tugged on the wrapper of the lollipop, undressing it for the ball of sugar that stood on a stick. His eyes gazed as you popped it in your mouth. A soft hum of approval muffled between the lollipop and your lips. Those soft plump lips that Leon kept looking at. A pang of jealousy flowed in his veins as he saw the way your tongue swirled the lollipop.

This was going to be a long day.

The ride to the mall was short, the same lollipop in your mouth as your tongue slowly was painted it's colour. You knew the effect you had on him, your head went crazy seeing his eyes glance at you often. No longer to your body, but to those pretty lips you had wrapped around your lollipop. Teasing him a bit more, a quick kitten lick around it made Leon suppress back a groan. Biting his lip hard and snapping his head the other way - pleading to whoever was up there to help him breathe a little.

Delving back into the bag, you grabbed two more lollipops as the mall was close. A small smirk thinning out your lips. Putting them into your purse, the drive came to a close. Leon shifted slightly to ease the stress in his pants. A bit too tight for his liking. Clicking the button, the seatbelt unraveled itself as he got out of his car. Walking over to the passenger side, opening the door up for you.

Taking your hand into his, he guided you out the vehicle, his other arm wrapping around your waist - his hand lightly squeezing it. The large establishment shadowed over you both whilst you walked towards it. Your heart pacing quickening with each step, Leon's hold on you was comforting yet enchanting. An immeasurable thirst building within you.

Shop after shop, Leon's hands started to become full of strings that held up the bags of clothing, makeup and whatnot you decided to get. No objections left him as you picked up something. You want it? You get it. Being treated to that sweet smile you gave him when he said 'yes' was all he could ever want. False. He needed your lips around his cock as he saw you continuously licking and sucking on your second lollipop of the day. That sugary rush secreting in your body, making you a little more hyper than usual.

Leon found himself mentally shouting at his thoughts. The grip on the strings that held the pretty clothes you got for yourself became tight as he scrutinized you. Unable to control himself, a huff left his lips as he continued to see you sucking on the sugary ball.

Fantasizing about you for so long led him to forget what you both were actually doing. Snapping back into reality, he looked away from you and saw you walk into a lingerie shop. Hold on. Wait, what the fuck? Lingerie shop. Leon's breath hitched as he walked in, seeing all the different mannequins brandish the laced items of clothing. He could picture you in the multitude of lingerie pieces that surrounded him - he honestly believed he was going insane. Your arm interlaced with his as you escorted him to the mass amount of fabric beautifully designed for your body.

A smug smile sketched itself on your face as you saw a set of lingerie, grabbing your attention immediately. Taking the lollipop out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you both together - you turn your head to Leon.

"What about this set?" A faux innocence entangled in your tone as your eyelashes flutter at him, the lollipop glistening under the light. Leon forced down a groan as he looked at you - seems like this first meeting was going to turn south at this point. His dick was basically throbbing imagining you in it. How pretty your tits would be, the way he would worship every curve on you.

Damn it. He couldn't think straight.

"Get it." A demanding tone elicited out of his throat, an almost growl as he saw your fingers pick at what cup size you were. The tips of your fingers rubbing against the material, weaving your way through it all. Grabbing what you needed, you looked at him - hunger was apparent in his eyes. He feasted on you, his eyes fucking you once again. Leon couldn't wait anymore, he led you to the till point. His fingers taking out a wad of cash, passing the notes over to the cashier. Not bothering to get his change, he ushered you out.

You could feel yourself getting wet again. What was this spell he had on you? He could just magically cast on you a haze of desire strictly for him. The grip of his hand on yours was tight as he paved the way towards his car. One hand held yours as the other carried the bundle of bags you accumulated in a few hours. Reaching his destination, you stood beside him as he situated the bags in the back of the vehicle, Leon's face in immense concentration as he imagined you in the set. The bulge in his pants becoming heavier and more apparent whilst he led you into the passenger seat. Although he was tense with endless longing for you, his hands were gentle as his fingers lingered on your body for a little while longer than usual. With you in the car, he slammed the car door shut, hurrying over to his side - entering in swiftly.

"You're a damn tease." Leon's voice was hoarse as he started the ignition, his head turned side to side as he reversed. Looking at you from the corner of his eye, he concentrated on that little smile you had on for him. That fucking lollipop still in your mouth. You were a minx.

"I don't know what you're talking about." A teasing tone left your throat, finishing the lollipop and licking your lips to get that sugar coating off. He couldn't help but groan at the sight. His hand slowly wandered off the gearshift and onto your thigh. You could feel a gentle squeezing sensation travel up to your heat. Leon's palm gradually nearing closer and closer - reminding you who was in control.

The sounds of gravel mushing against the wheels of the vehicle alerted you of the end of the journey. However the house in front of you was not one you knew. Leon's house stood proud as the exterior design bestowed a sensation of luxury. Parking the car, he turned his attention to you - looking at you with the same message of need and lust.

"Do me a favour sweetheart," he spoke gravelly, turning to grab a bag from the backseat. "Put this on for me will you?" The tips of your fingers grazed his whilst he passed you the bag. The lingerie combination awaiting to be clung to your body. A nimble nod left you as your throat felt dry. Compressing your thighs together to relieve yourself of the ache for a few seconds, you view Leon as he gets out of the car - going to open your side for you. A slight shake in your legs was visible when you walked towards the front door. The sound of keys jangling looped your ears as your eyes laid upon the inside of the building.

It was beautiful.

The tidiness of the place was outstanding as you walked in. Looking at the place was short-lived as Leon took you into the master bathroom. Your fingers weaved between the strings of the bag gradually opening it up and taking out the prized object. He gave your waist a squeeze and left you inside to change out of your outfit into the revealing piece he bought you.

Leon's heart was racing, his steps to his bedroom was heavy. Opening the door he was welcomed into the familiar room, the scent of freshness coming from his humidifier. Straightening out the sheets, closing the blinds and dimming the lights he palmed his erection slightly. Light pants vacated him, trying to get his thoughts together. You were doing things to him that he hadn't felt in a long time. Looking around the room to make sure everything was perfect, his thoughts were cut short hearing the creaking sound next to him.

There you stood. Your curves accentuated by the set, your bare skin captivating Leon. You felt your breath hitch, awaiting for him to say something. But actions spoke louder than words, his hands slowly caressing your sides.

"Beautiful..." A soft mumble came from him, eying you down with passion. His calloused hands brushing over the smoothness of your skin. This sight only for him. A view that nobody else was lucky enough to see. He reached out, his hand coming to rest on your hip, his fingers digging into you. Pulling you closer, his body pressed up against yours - you fit so snug against him. Leon bent down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck as he steered you both to the bed. The covers hugging your body as you plopped down, his knee propped in-between both of your legs.

The pressure of your clothed clit against his knee elicited a moan out of you. Dripping onto the fabric of his jeans, creating a darker colour on them. The smudge of your essence spread quickly as his knee continued to slightly rub up and down. Whimpers could be heard from you whilst your body pleaded for more. More of him.

"Please..." A choked whisper came from you, pleading with him to give you more. To reward you more of his touch. Leon looked at you, already so needy for him. Such a pretty sight glancing down at his knee, your panties clinging onto your puffy pussy. His hand stroked your side as he peppered kisses on your neck. Leon's teeth nipping at your delicate flesh - making a deep mark on you.

"Patience love, I want to take my time with you." He mumbled into your neck, his voice vibrating against your skin - tickling you ever so slightly. How could he call you a tease when he was prolonging this for so long?

Your hips stuttered, trying to push yourself over the edge as you rode out his knee impatiently. Your slick made it easier for you to get the sensation you longed for. His wet kisses travelled down from your neck to your collarbone - sucking and nibbling to mark you as his. Pornographic moans drew out of your throat, nearly bringing Leon over the edge already. He couldn't get enough of you. It was like you were some succubus drawing him in with every sound that became trapped in the four walls that confided you both. Addictive.

Lifting himself off you slightly, he removed the straps off your body, slipping the material down slightly. Your tits bouncing slightly from the action. A twinge of embarrassment loomed over your face - your hands shying him away as you covered yourself up.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" His eyes flickered up to meet yours - seeing your face he knew damn well what you were thinking. "Don't cover yourself up, you're gorgeous..." His thumbs caressed both of your hands. Avoiding his gaze, which Leon didn't like, you stutter out a response.

"M'just nervous." Feeling self conscious within yourself, you expected Leon to get frustrated. Contradicting your thought process, he placed a tender kiss on your soft lips.

"It's okay to be nervous, do you wanna stop?" His fingers held your chin, pulling you to look at him. A slight shake of your head signaled you didn't want him to stop. His kiss made you feel warm. Safe. Hesitating slightly, you pulled your hands away - allowing him to see your upper chest fully.

"Thank you love," He fondled with your breasts, his fingers leisurely rubbing the nubs on them. "All this f'me... So fucking pretty." Without warning, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples. Swirling around the hard bud clingily. He practically drooled over your tits as he looked up - seeing your scrunched up face in pure bliss. The sensitivity of your nipples caused you to shiver slightly. A small smirk grew on his face as he continued his ministrations on your boobs. Appreciating them, kissing them, sucking them. He couldn't have enough.

The cold air hit your skin as he unlatched his lips, kissing down your stomach. He could cum just from doing this. His fingers hooked under the fabric, prying it off you until he took the top half off. He pinched your nipple whilst littering your body with his soft kisses. A gasp leaving your lips, your nipples hardening from the coldness. Leon moaned as he felt his hips buck subconsciously into the bed, he was so needy for you. His body dependent on yours - the heat radiating from your frame made his cock throb with an ache that needed to be sated.

But no. He needed to make you cum on his tongue. God. Leon has to taste your essence. A craving that he could attain now that he shifted you further up the mattress. Propping himself to dive into your slick cunt. Manicured nails feathered through the locks of his hair, a shudder leaving him as he glanced up at you one last time. Telepathically asking for your consent when he removed your soaked panties.

"Mhm..." The mumble was quiet, but he heard nonetheless. You knew he did as he licked the slit of your pussy, a growl like groan leaving him whilst he sunk his head back down the apex of your thighs.

Skillful movements of his tongue became unmistakable, flicking it up and down on your clit. Mixing it along with a few kisses and sucking motions - it brought tears to your eyes.

Your heart and mind craving more, juxtaposing your movements as you were out of control.

Trying to push him away - feeling your orgasm slowly build up. To no avail, Leon pressed his hands down, suppressing you to the quilt and him. Sandwiched in what was going to give you an enchanting release, your fingers bunched up his hair to pull on it. Giving you some sort of control in the situation. This granted you a moan from Leon, still persevering to make you cum.

The bridge of his nose rocking into your clit, multiple wet sounds coming out of his mouth. Your pussy gushing at his experience, Leon needed you to cum. Hearing your gasping moans whilst his mouth transferred itself to your clit made him double take if he even needed to fuck you to cum. Just pleasuring you was getting him off to a point where he thought he would cum in his boxers if you carried on spoiling him with the gratification of giving you oral.

"Leon, m'so close!" The whine fleeing out of your mouth did it for him. He lifted his mouth off you; meanwhile your head shot up no longer feeling his tongue anymore. Before you could protest, Leon spat on his fingers, coating them well in order to put them inside of you. Your walls tightened whilst he would piston them deep - curling them so good at your g-spot. Alongside with his mouth returning back to your bundle of nerves.

An otherworldly feeling rose within you as you sputtered out filthy moans. Leon's lips curled into a smile, feeling that you were about to cum on his fingers. Muffled since he was sandwiched between both of your thighs he spoke out, a sultry tone laced with it.

"Cum f'me baby, come on." Those words sent you over the edge. The crispiness of his voice echoed in your ears as you felt that impending orgasm finally release. Screaming his name, embedding chants of thanks, he rubbed soft circles on your clit. Slowing his movements to grant you a moment's peace allowing you to come down from your high. With his chin soaked, his fingers coated, he licked them clean whilst looking at your erotic blissed out expression.

"Such a good girl, a pretty one at that." He kissed your thigh, getting up from in between your legs. A deep kiss shared amongst the two of you, you were tasting yourself on his tongue. Leon's hands no longer clung on your skin as he removed his shirt.

You saw the scars that littered his body, a dark mark highlighted on his left shoulder. Some sort of bullet wound. To pry in this situation would be bad, it would just kill the mood. However, you could feel yourself getting hot once again when your eyes trailed over him again. Prominent abs shining through with his biceps putting you in an non existent chokehold. The light veins protruding through, showcasing his whole body. All that came from you was a breathy pant, you couldn't speak. Not when he was this handsome.

"You're staring sweetheart." He kissed your forehead, allowing you to snap out of your trance.

"Sorry..." A sheepish murmur left you. Still, you couldn't turn away as your eyes zoomed around his body once again. Fuck.

A chuckle brought you to look at his hands as they capably undid his belt. The leather shining snapping your attention to very clear bulge in his pants. Feeling proud of yourself for making him hard, you meet his gaze on you. His expression was unreadable... besides the fact his stare on you was longing. That's all you could read off him. Who was he? What did he do for a living?

All of those thoughts were lost as he took off his pants, his precum already seeped through his boxers making a distinguished mark. Without thinking, your hands replaced his. Pulling the boxers off him in a flash to see the flushed red tip. Leon let out a choked gasp, unaware of your movements. Your stare didn't help him regain his composure at all, a roseate colour burning on his cheeks.

"Don't look at it like that..." He moaned softly. It was pretty. Minor veins travelling up to the tip, showcasing off the large one that curved slightly. The base of him neatly trimmed - he was clean. Thank fuck.

It wasn't long before Leon positioned himself to your cunt. Practically drooling for him. His touch gentle as he rubbed your sides - easing you to be less nervous.

"You okay? We can stop if you want." He mellowly asked whilst brushing away a few stray hairs from your face. His fingers lingering on your cheek as he caressed it softly. Seeing you shake your head back at him with a sweet smile reminding him of your consent in the situation gave him a sense of comfort. You saw him as a person. Not a tool, not a man who killed abhorrent things. But a guy who could make you feel good.

Pushing into you was with ease. Your sloppy pussy taking him in so well that his hips sputtered slightly feeling you tighten around him. Leon couldn't resist slowly rocking his hips, craving more of this sensation you happily gave him.

"You can go faster, m'okay..." Reassurance was all Leon needed in this. Hearing your words and consent to fuck you good snapped something within him. His thighs slapping against yours slightly, creating a soft 'plap plap plap' made the scene more erotic then it was. This was pure filth.

His thrusts becoming deeper he threw his head back. You felt so good wrapped around his dick. Leon felt your nails scratch his sides, you tried to cling onto something as he pumped himself again and again. Needing to feel your skin on his lips, he pressed himself closer to you - his kisses gently fluttering on your neck. The tighter you squeezed the closer he was. Smothering your skin with marks that shown you were his. He made you his by forming his cock shape inside of you.

The base of his cock had a ring of cum forming around it. Displaying your last orgasm whilst he was soon to bring you to your next. His hips didn't stop the everlasting assault against yours, bucking into you helplessly. Leon hadn't felt this alive in ages. This horny mess he was encapsulated in brought him to his memories of when he was young. A young adult pumping with energy once again but this time he was older, more mature. Much more experienced. You were the lucky one to feel his experience. To feel him let go of himself in you.

He propped himself back up, the sheer sheet of sweat highlighting his abs in the dim light alongside the beads of sweat that covered his forehead. "Good fucking girl... take it." Dirty words left his lips and flowed into your ears. Words that make you shiver, blush and shake slightly in his grasp.

A growl escaped Leon when he felt your legs wrap around his hips. Fuck, did you want him to cum inside? His mind went crazy at the thought. Calloused hands gripped you tightly whilst he looked at you. So beautiful. You were gorgeous. The mewls that scratched your throat as you shot your eyes open when you felt like you could see stars. Only to meet Leon's gaze once again - just this time, you both were so close to the brink of release.

The way the scene held such love. A sugar baby and sugar daddy wouldn't have this with each other. Maybe this was different. Both of your foreheads clung to each other. Gasps leaving your mouth, groans leaving his. Passionate kisses being traded between you two as his thick cock stuffed your sobbing pussy full.

"Love, fuck, you have to unwrap... your legs." He managed to gasp out. Leon's dick was throbbing, aching for the sweet release he craved for. You were in a state of bliss, your body nearly becoming limp as you obeyed with his instruction. The bundle of nerves tingled. You were so close. So close to cumming around him. Leon could feel it. He could see it. Shakily, his thumb reached that precious, sensitive clit that longed to be rubbed. His ministrations on it brought the loudest of screams from you.

"Leon! I-I can't..." Your wails only made him dizzier. Dizzy from how fucking pretty you were for him.

"You can sweetheart, come on... cum on my cock. Be a, shit so tight... Be a good girl and cum f'me baby." Leon moaned out, he was about to fill you up if you weren't quick. Lucky enough, a bit more pressure on your clit caused you to shake uncontrollably. The same feeling as before washing over you - just a lot stronger. His eyes watched everything. How your body shook in his arms, the way your eyes rolled back as his name slipped from your tongue. Looking down, he could see your tits bounce whilst he carried on fucking you. Marks strewn all over you.

Leon's hips stuttered, he swiftly pulled out of you - cumming instantly on your pussy. The white, glossy substance coating your slit. Some spurts shot up and landed on your tummy. His head thrown back as he came down from his high, his endorphins going mental.

"Fuck..." He held himself up slightly, trying not to crush you with his body weight. A deep chuckle abandoning his throat as he saw you pant. Your fingers clutching onto his bicep whilst you tried to steady yourself.

Cute.

"You okay?" A deep voice knocked you out of your trance, looking at him dizzily. "Mm..." Your nods spoke louder than your mumble as you held onto him. His fingers latched onto a few tissues from the box on his bedside table. Wiping gently the mess he created on you. Mellow kisses on your stomach, tickling you a little.

He wanted something more. A relationship even. But a long term relationship would mean you would see the nightmares that taunted him. The crying, the hurt, the horror. He didn't want you to see that just yet. So this 'agreement', was enough for now. But everyone would know he was yours and you were his. He would make sure of it. Even if it meant marking you up or perhaps putting a placement ring on your finger before the real deal. Anything to make you happy, you were his happiness.

He guided you into the master bathroom again. Just for a different reason. Running the bath, it filled up rather quickly. Leon's hands wondering over your skin whilst massaging any parts he may have clutched onto a bit too tightly. Soft kisses on your face, lips and neck carried on. Not out of lust - it was love. His love for you met no limits.

The smile that would creep up his face when he heard you giggle made his heart flutter. That hole that was punctured so deep from his job was filled by your presence.

"Thank you..." Your voice was melodic. Bringing Leon to look at you with heart shaped eyes. A deeper kiss shared amongst the both of you whilst he got you both in the bath. The warm water soaking into your muscles, easing them up from the pleasure you both faced.

"Of course, anything for you." His words held such comfort that it could make you cry. Who knew a sugar daddy could bring you happiness in the romance department? Or maybe he was just separate from the others. You didn't care. All you cared about was him, and you wanted to know more about him. Trailing your eyes up to him, you see him remember something.

"Hm? What's up?" The inquiry you had made him chuckle. Confused, you prod him to give you an answer. His lips pressed against your forehead before he spoke.

"Is $2000 enough for tonight?"

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank u for reading :)

-> masterlist

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon x reader #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #leon s kennedy

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angrykittenvoid · 2 years ago

Text

You owe me

Warnings: Lucifer being a perv, swearing, dirty talk, lots of sex

Summary: You want to make a pact with Lucifer but he wants something in return: your body.

He thinks you haven’t noticed his strange behaviours towards you, but you have. Staring at you when he thinks you’re not looking. His protective glare over you whenever you talk to one of his brothers. Or even when he’d put his hands on your waist to pass by you and his touch would linger a bit too long. Eventually he started holding your waist every time he’d pass by you even when it wasn’t necessary, and you swear you feel his cock rub against your ass every time.

He’s been wanting to feel you up for the longest time. Spending so many nights with his cock in his fist, moaning your name in ecstasy. Though imagining you under him screaming his name satisfied him enough to reach his climax, it just wasn’t enough. He needed you. The real you. And he wanted to make his fantasies of you a reality.

Lucifer was the last demon brother you needed to make a pact with but he’s been so hard to convince. One day you decide you’re done waiting for the right moment. You barge into his room to just come out and say it. “I want you to make a pact with me”, you say determinedly. Lucifer gets up from his chair and struts towards you with curiosity. “Why are you so adamant on making pacts with my brothers and I?” Of course you can’t tell him the real reason you want to make the pact, he’d be livid if he found out you’re trying to help Belphie escape the attic. “I’m in an entirely new world, I want to be as strong as possible.” You aren’t entirely lying, but you’re not telling the full truth either. Lucifer eyes you suspiciously as he walks closer.

“What’s in it for me?” The smirk on his face grows as a devious plan develops in his head. “What do you mean?” “Well if I’m gonna give you something without knowing your full intentions I might as well get something out of it.” He takes another step closer, making the small gap between you two even smaller.

“Fine, what do you want?” you say anxiously. “…I want to taste you”, he said with nothing but lust in his voice as he pinned you against the wall behind you. You’re now stuck between the wall and a very horny Lucifer towering over you. “I’ll make a pact with you if… I get to fuck you whenever I want for a month.” Your eyes widen in shock. Being a sex slave to a demon for a month?! You’re not sure you could even handle whatever sadistic, sexual tasks Lucifer had in store for you. As you eye him up you look a bit further down his body, noticing his already hard cock making a tent in his pants. Lucifer notices your staring and decides to rub his cock against your pussy. You let out a loud whine. “So what do you say? Wanna be my little play thing for a month?” What other choice do you have? You need to make this pact otherwise the work you put into making the other pacts would’ve all been for nothing. If this is the only way he’ll agree to a pact then so be it. You look up at him nervously and say “deal.” Lucifer has the most devilish grin on his face as he looks at his watch. “Well would you look at that. It’s midnight”, he says closing the gap between you two by kissing you roughly. He shoves his tongue passed your lips, dominating your mouth as he gropes your breast with one hand and your ass with the other.

“Our one month starts now.”

——

Lucifer takes full advantage of this opportunity by bending you over every chance he gets. You just woke up? Early morning, sloppy sex. You’re at school? He’s pulling you into the nearest storage closet. You’re chilling in your room? He’s pulling you into his room where you spend the night being his personal cum dump.

He puts you in every position he can think of. Missionary, downward dog, in front of a mirror, against the wall, and even in his office a couple times. In his right mind he’d be terrified if someone, especially Diavolo, walked in on you two in such an inappropriate position in his office, but he’s so pussy drunk he can’t think straight. All he wants is to feel you around his cock.

——

“L-Lucifer.” That’s the only coherent word you’re able to utter as Lucifer bullies your sensitive cunt. Besides your tired moans, the lewd sound of flesh smacking against flesh is all that can be heard within Lucifer’s bedroom. Earlier, he called your phone, all he said was “My room. Now” and hung up. And because of the deal you made, you couldn’t say no. Not like you’d want to anyway. You love the feeling of the hunky demon assorting his dominance over you and fucking your brains out every night. And now here you are, Lucifer slamming his hips into yours like his life depends on it. Hitting your sweet spot with every thrust as your eyes roll back in pleasure.

If only you could focus your eyes enough to see Lucifer right now, he’s a mess. Face sweaty, hair disheveled, and a string of drool rolling down his chin. “Fuck. You feel so damn good.” He grunts, leaning down to lay a rough kiss on your lips. His thrusts become sloppier as he gets closer to his climax. “Oh Lucifer- p-please make me cum.” Your desperate cries was all it took to push him off the edge, shooting hot streaks of cum straight into your womb. You follow suit as you come around his still hardened cock for what you think is the fifth time tonight.

“Oh baby, we’re only halfway done, remember? You’re still mine for the next 2 weeks. Actually I’m not sure I’ll be willing to let go by then. How about another few weeks? ’Nother few months? I just need to feel your sweet pussy for a bit longer. Damn, your fucked out face is getting me riled up again. You’re tired? Nah, you can handle one more round. Remember, you owe me”, he affirms as his thrusts start to speed up again.

This is gonna be a long night.

—————————————————————————

#obey me #obey me shall we date #lucifer avatar of pride #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer x female reader #obey me nightbringer #lucifer smut #mammonobeyme #beezlebub #perv lucifer #obey me smut #lord diavolo

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gokyrts · 17 days ago

Text

Patrón!Carlos | C.S. 55

18+ | warnings: mentions of drugs, cartel politics, mentions of kidnapping, d/s dynamics, finger sucking, dom!carlos, unprotected p in v, spanking, oral (m receiving), slight degradation and humiliation, light ass play, dirty talk

Summary: you needed a favour, a favour only the leader of the local drug cartel could grant you, so you went to beg for it and you bit more than you could chew

Author’s note: MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM YOURS TRULY!! This is a gift for all my lovely supporters. if you’ve liked Mafia AU, you’re definitely gonna like this 🤭 welcome to Narcos AU with Carlos Sainz !

wc: 4.3k

Check out part two here and part three here !

In case you’re unfamiliar with the plot and terms of Narcos, here’s a little vocabulary with terms that are used throughout the story:

el patrón — (noun) boss of a drug cartel

sicarios — (noun, pl.) high ranking members of a cartel, armed, usually on motorcycles

DEA — (noun) drug enforcement administration; U.S. federal office tasked with combatting drug trafficking

The air outside the compound was still, heavy with the heat of late afternoon. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of laughter echoed, mingling with the crackle of a lit cigar. You sat alone, staring at the rim of your glass, swirling the amber liquid inside. The burn of it no longer registered—it had stopped doing that weeks ago. You hated this place. Hated the velvet couches, the chandeliers, the lingering stench of power and fear. But it had become your world.

Your sister was safe. That was what mattered. That was what you kept telling yourself.

Still, the memory of the first step you’d taken into this life clung to you like smoke, no matter how many times you tried to shove it away. And, as always, it returned unbidden:

The air was just as oppressive that day, tightening around your throat, pressing against your chest. But not nearly as oppressive as the gazes and words of the sicarios you encountered when you came to beg for a favor. Their eyes on you like you were a piece of meat delivered to their door.

“Move along, sweetheart,” one of them said, making your stomach churn.

“I need to speak with señor Sainz.” your assertiveness was a joke to them, seeing nothing more than a defenseless animal.

“Did you hear that?” he’d said, turning to the other guard with exaggerated mockery. “Little mama here wants to speak to el patrón.”

Their laughter had stung, but you’d swallowed your pride. This wasn’t about you. It was about your sister. It was about survival.

“Please,” you’d whispered, your voice cracking just enough to reveal the desperation in your chest. “It’s important.”

The sicarios had exchanged amused glances before one stepped forward, his expression darkening with a hint of suspicion. “Es importante, ah?” he’d asked, the firearm in his hands a reminder of who had control. “How so?”

Your fists had tightened, your body screaming to run, but you had stood your ground. “I need his help. My… my sister has been kidnapped.”

The two men exchanged a glance, this one colder, heavier. Without another word, they had stepped aside, opening the door to the building with a mockingly polite gesture. “Muy bien, let’s see what the boss has to say to this… little request.”

They had flanked you as you walked down the dim corridor, the echo of their heavy boots swallowing your lighter steps. The long hallway felt like a gauntlet, and each step seemed to draw you further into a cage you wouldn’t be able to escape. They led you to an unassuming door, another guard stationed outside. A brief knock sounded, a whisper you hadn’t caught, and then you were ushered inside.

Carlos Sainz’s office had been every bit as ostentatious as you’d imagined. The room reeked of wealth: leather chairs, imported bourbon, and a portrait of the man himself staring down from the wall. But none of it had held your attention for long. Your gaze had locked onto Carlos the moment you saw him.

He’d been seated behind his desk, looking as though he owned not just the room but the air you were breathing. His expression had been unreadable, save for the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

Before you could speak, one of the guards shoved you forward. “I’m not armed!” you’d snapped, your voice sharp with indignation.

The guard’s rough hands searched you anyway, brushing over your clothes with no effort to hide his smugness. Carlos, meanwhile, had leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, watching the scene like it was some form of theater staged for his amusement.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he’d said, his smirk widening as his gaze swept over you. “You seem to have a sharp tongue on you, señorita.”

You’d forced yourself to endure and once the guard was satisfied, you had been given the space to speak.

“I—I need your help, señor. They… they took my little sister. I don’t know who else to turn to.”

He hadn’t reacted at first. Instead, he’d reached for a glass, pouring himself a measure of whiskey with deliberate slowness. The sound of the liquid hitting the glass filled the room like a mocking echo.

“You came to ask for a favor?” he’d said finally, his tone light, as though you were discussing the weather. He hadn’t given you a chance to respond. “I remember you owing a favor to me, little one.”

Your throat had tightened. Of course, he remembered. A debt passed down from your father, inherited like a curse. You’d known the weight of it would crush you someday. You just hadn’t expected it to be this soon.

“Sí, señor,” you’d said, voice cracking, fighting the urge to wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt. “I still owe you. But I need this, please. She was taken by men from the other side. I-I don’t want them to hurt her or worse…”

Carlos had tilted his head, studying you as though you were some strange creature that had wandered into his den.

“So… you expect me to solve more of your family’s problems, sí?” His words were light, almost teasing, but the sharp edge in his gaze had made your stomach twist.

Your knees had felt weak, but you’d pressed on. “Please,” you’d said again, the word tasting like ash on your tongue. “I—I will do anything.”

At that, his amusement had deepened. The room had gone still.

“Anything…?” he’d repeated, his voice dropping just enough to make you shiver. One of the guards had snickered, but Carlos had silenced him with a click of his tongue. Then he’d mentioned for the guards to exit, leaving only the two of you in the room.

With deliberate slowness, he’d risen from his chair, rounding the desk until he stood in front of you. He’d been taller than you remembered, his presence overwhelming.

“Do you know what that word means, little one?” he’d asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Do you know what it costs to ask me for a favor?”

You’d lowered your gaze, the weight of his stare crushing you.

“I… I will pay the price,” you’d whispered.

Carlos had tilted his head, lifting your chin upward with surprising gentleness, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Careful,” he’d murmured, his tone soft but laced with warning. “There are men who would take this as an invitation...”

You’d stiffened, your skin crawling under his touch.

“But I’m not one of them…not today.” he’d stepped back with a smirk, allowing you to breathe again.

“Muy bien,” he’d said, returning to his desk. “I’ll deal with these men and bring your sister back. But… from this moment on, you’re mine. Your time, your life. When I call, you answer. No questions. No hesitation. Understood?”

You’d hesitated, just for a moment, but Carlos didn’t let you. His voice had turned sharp, cutting through your resistance like a blade.

“Understood?”

“Yes,” you’d said, voice shaking. “Yes… I understand.”

He’d smirked, satisfied. “Good. Go home, little one. Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

…

You closed your eyes as the memory finished replaying, pressing the glass back to your lips, its contents dwindling fast. Anticipation brewed in your gut mingling with the expensive imported whiskey. He has called again and you answered, per agreement.

Over time you learned to ignore the hungry stares from his wolves, their sleazy whispers, and dirty hands adjusting their pants when you passed them in the halls of the safehouse. It made you sick. But this was part of the price you had to pay. The price you agreed to pay for the safety of your sister’s life, and the doom of your own.

“Princesita,”

Your eyes snapped open at his voice — smooth, silky, like the liquor you just downed. The familiar burning sensation returned, your body starting to smolder again. You swallowed the bitterness and turned on your hell, the dress you were told to wear flowing around your form.

Carlos regarded you with a long gaze, from the shoes you picked to wear, across your hips and waist, where the dress tightly hugged your soft curves, to your face, lingering on your painted lips.

He nodded in approval, beckoning you closer with a finger.

Teaching you obedience was his favorite, along with making you regret every life decision you ever made, but especially the deal you made with him.

His thumb found your bottom lip as you stepped closer, the red on your lips pulling him in like a bull following its toreador. The rough surface of his finger swiped over the carefully applied lipstick, smudging it and dragging it down your chin. A flicker of amusement appeared in his eyes at your ruined look, his favorite look on you. His thumb slid off your chin, leaving a light red stain.

Beautiful, he thought, before retracting his hand only to notice the smudge on his finger.

He pressed the thumb back against your mouth.

“Clean it.”

And your body burned, the whiskey in your gut the fuse and his command the spark. The finger was thrust into your mouth with zero patience, the taste of ash and metal hitting your tongue along the unmistakable sweetness of your cherry red lipstick. As much as the taste made you retch, it was addicting.

First lesson in obedience — do as you’re told.

Your tongue wrapped around the digit, swirling to catch the pad of his thumb and sucking it clean. Carlos rewarded you with a hum of approval, pressing down harder on your tongue, forcing your mouth to open up further.

Your jaw gave way, letting Carlos in on the sight of his saliva-covered thumb in your mouth, your tongue playing around with it. He pulled back, dragging his finger out of your mouth but not without wiping it slightly against your lip, enhancing the redness of it with a top coat.

“Good girl… good ruined girl.”

Heat pooled between your legs, forcing an involuntary hum from your throat. Weeks ago you would resist, deny, and deflect — you didn’t want him to notice, because he noticed everything — but his praise was like a switch flipped in your brain.

However, as fast as he praised, he also did the exact opposite.

“Go clean your face, I’m not letting you accompany me looking like that.” he spat, stepping aside so you could go wipe the mess he made on your face. The oval mirror in his office was nearly as familiar as the face you saw in it. The flashbacks were instant when you looked into it, images of him, of you, in positions he forced you into. Carlos liked making you watch, it etched itself in your memory better, he said.

You squeezed your thighs together as you wiped the ruined lipstick off of your chin, similar redness blooming on your cheeks. Carlos smirked knowingly, standing a few feet behind you. He could be in the background, not even touching you but your body was aflame for him, your mind playing tricks on you, triggers he put in your head setting off. You reapplied the lipstick, the phantom feeling of his finger on them almost making you miss the intimacy.

There was a knock on the door, signaling your ride was there. Armed guards escorted you to an awaiting car. A small convoy left the compound to ensure the patrón’s safety. A meeting with the other Narcos wasn’t something to underestimate. Light chatter took part in the car you were not part of. They didn’t need your opinion. You were there as a pretty face, nothing more, nothing less.

As you approached the hotel where the meeting would be held, the oppressive air started clawing at your lungs again. The delicate power balance you felt in the atmosphere was unnerving, ready to tip over in any direction. You and Carlos were patted down before entering. It was agreed that this meeting would be weapon-free. If anything was to go down, you’d be fighting with your bare hands.

The hotel was grand, smelling of the same filthy richness that Carlos’ office did. Your presence caught eyes. A woman, a pretty woman, here? Just as you learned to ignore the stares and comments of Carlos’ sicarios*, you avoided those of the other men, asking if you were lost or looking for a good time. The tension only heightened as you neared the entered the conference room and Carlos felt the need to remind you of your place. He caught you by the elbow, pulling you back against him, his lips against your ear. “You’re here to keep me company, not to speak. Understood?”

Your breath hitched, his voice, so close, sent shivers down your back. “Sí, señor.”

Carlos was satisfied enough with your response and let you go, stepping around you and opening the door. Your smaller form was hidden behind Carlos’ broad back as you entered, the other Narcos only catching sight of you as you walked along the enormous glass table.

Without looking up, you uttered a quiet ‘Buenos dias, señores.’ That was the only time you were allowed to speak.

Behind the clouds of smoke from cigars and cigarettes, the Narcos recognized a woman. They exchanged glances, whispers, scoffs but nothing you wouldn’t be used to already. Despite their visible disapproval, no one dared speak up.

Carlos sat at the head of the table, as he was the organizer of the meeting, leaving you a small seat behind him, just to further emphasize you were not part of the negotiations.

The meeting started but not much has reached your ears throughout, selectively more than not. The Narcos discussed new routes, skirmishes with the DEA, feuds over territory, nothing you could be a part of anyway.

You were picking on your nails when one of the older gentlemen mentioned the neighborhood you grew up in.

“…a possible lab location, routes go out here and through this way,”

His fat finger was pointing to a map, showing what in his mind was a new business idea the others would approve of. For a moment you were taken into your childhood home, playing with your sister on the front porch. It was nice, safe but you always saw men linger around, men who had DEA badges on their belts. Still thinking you were in your mind, you murmured. “Yeah, right into the DEA’s hands…”

Silence.

Feeling a full body chill, you looked up, slowly, each tilt of your head further revealed more shocked and angry expressions of the Narcos.

The man whose idea you challenged leaned back and looked at Carlos in disbelief.

“Carlos, who is this? Did you bring a secretary? Are you into females advising you now?”

Your heart nearly stopped, eyes widening as the weight of your little comment hit you.

“Why did you bring a woman into the meeting anyway? Now she’s thinking she’s one of us.” Another man sneered as all gazes turned to Carlos to watch his reaction.

Whatever he was thinking, one could not tell. His eyes flit briefly to you and then back, but you did notice his jaw clenching, a subtle show of his anger. But he masked it well, leaning back in his seat.

“She’s not one of us, but she’s right. Think about it.”

Carlos’ response had the Narcos stunned a second time that night. They turned to one another, murmuring amongst themselves, considering the situation. But no one was stunned more than you. He saved you…he acknowledged your opinion, among those he trusted the least but had to respect the most and vice versa.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly on alert and aware of what was being discussed. With bated breath, you watch the meeting conclude and the drug lords pour out of the conference room. Some regarded you with disgust, others with interest, some with caution but you would be in the meeting minutes of everyone who attended.

When the last of the traffickers left, the atmosphere of the room shifted. Carlos was quiet, too quiet for your liking. His fingers drummed against the glass table, the echo loud in the empty room. His head tilted to the side and you saw his jaw lock in place before he spoke.

“Are you the expert on routes now?” His tone was calm and cold, the kind that makes you want to huddle for warmth. It wasn’t a question for you to answer. A loud warning despite the pitch in his voice, but you knew this was more dangerous than if he’d yelled. “What did I tell you about speaking up?” his words had bite now.

“I-I didn’t mean to… I was just— you said I was right though! I grew up in that neighborhood! If you let them set up a lab there, the DEA would be onto them and you’d be the one cleaning up the mess.”

“Oh? You think you saved me?” he chuckled but there was no humor in it. “Do not think this is how you repay favors, little princess.”

You averted his gaze, the taste of forced submission bitter on your tongue. Your palms were sweating again and you had to wipe them on your dress this time. Carlos watched you, the intensity in his eyes threatening to light the fire inside you again and he knew.

The sound of the snapping of his fingers was loud in the room, making you look up at him again.

“Come here.”

First lesson in obedience — do as you’re told.

You got up on shaky legs, taking a few short strides to Carlos’ side. Your tongue swiped over your bottom lip in anticipation, catching the cherry red lipstick he had given you a taste of before.

“Over the table, princesa…”

The glass table felt cold over your thighs and stomach, the dress you wore riding up as you bent over in front of him. You heard him sigh, the sound filling you with more delicious uncertainty. You felt his large hand on the back of your thigh, the rough callouses contrasting against the gentle caresses he gave you.

“This room was full of men who would shoot you for even looking at them wrong…” He spoke with softness that made you almost comfortable against the table like this was a fatherly scolding. Except it was.

Smack.

His palm landed against the back of your thigh, forcing air out of your lungs.

“And you thought you could just come in and play queen?” Carlos continued, his voice dropping an octave as he pulled your dress up, revealing your bare ass.

Smack.

The handprint on your ass cheek stung, its red outline hot to the touch as he rubbed his fingers over it. You cried out as he delivered the next smack to your other cheek.

Your eyes squeezed shut with the force he used, an involuntary moan slipping from your lips. He fisted his other hand in your hair, pulling your head back. His lips were against your ear again.

“I have every right to throw you to them… to let them devour you till there’s nothing but bones… but,” he trailed off, a strange occurrence, stretching the moment and breathing fire to your insides.

“You’re mine.”

Your head landed against the glass table as he let go of your hair, the thud making you groan. His hands trailed back down, catching against the waistband of your underwear and pulling it down. You gasped as the cold air hit your soaked pussy, the undergarment landing around your ankles. Carlos grabbed at your ass cheek, squeezing and spreading you to him.

“Ah… I’m beginning to think you like this, princesa.” His tone was mocking as his index finger slid through the wetness making your hips jerk. Your neediness amused him, almost as much as your fear.

The clinking sound of his belt undoing only made you squeeze your thighs together, searching for friction despite how wrong it felt. But the smoldering need in your gut was stronger than your moral code. Your thighs spread slightly, welcoming him. You could hear a faint chuckle behind you, your willingness nothing short of amusement to Carlos.

He nudged the tip of his cock against your slit, coating himself in the slickness he was the cause of. Just like all those times before, Carlos didn’t wait, he took what he wanted. Always.

The first thrust pushed you hard against the glass table and stole air from your lungs. You never got used to his size, the stretch always stung a little, the force of his thrusts always left your hips aching the next day and you knew you’d be feeling the same later.

He hissed, forcing himself to the hilt before pulling back and in again, setting a steady pace. His large hands gripped your hips, keeping you pinned between him and the table. You knew there would be bruises, bruises you’d hide, bruises he’d expose. Regrets you’d have to face one way or another.

Carlos pressed one hand against the small of your back, making you arch, your ass pushing back against his hips.

“That’s it…that’s it,” he murmured, looking down, your ass bouncing off his hips a mesmerizing sight. As your cheeks spread further apart, his eyes fell to your tight hole, and Carlos felt an itch he could not help but scratch. His hand slid down, his thumb pressing against it, feeling you clench around him.

He growled, pressing a little harder, testing your reaction. When you whined and clenched again, he knew he found a sweet spot.

“Fuck, you like it, princesa? You like when I play with your tight little ass?”

Your insides were molten, your resolve and pride burned to a crisp. Even your unspoken protests evaporated right on your tongue from the heat. “Yes…fuck, yes!” you panted out, feeling the knot in your stomach coil.

Carlos grinned, his thumb staying where it was, relishing in your walls fluttering even tighter around him, pushing him closer to the edge. He picked up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force.

“Such a dirty little thing… you want it? Tell me you want it, princesa.” You knew he was getting close when his mouth spewed the filthiest words, looking to get off on your reactions.

Your tongue nearly lolled out of your mouth, the pleasure overwhelming your senses. You knew what he wanted to hear and you gave in.

“Please,”

Carlos bit his lip, groaning as you begged for him, the act alone making his cock twitch. “Again, let me hear you.” You felt his chest press against your back, pushing you impossibly closer to the table to the point you thought it would break.

“P-Please…” your voice was louder this time, enough to the man above you. He grunted in satisfaction, his pace faltering before he spilled himself inside you. His hips stilled, but the weight of him continued to bruise your smaller body.

Carlos took a moment before he pulled out, panting, the grip on your hip easing. Your knees bucked slightly with exhaustion and Carlos, thinking himself merciful, grabbed at your elbow, pulling you up. You looked up at him but the sight of the cunning smile on his face told you that this was far from over. He yanked you in his direction and you ungracefully landed on your knees, the impact making you whine. Carlos snorted with laughter, adoring the sight of your pathetic self beneath him. He stepped closer to you and you lifted your head to meet his gaze, instead, you were met with the sight of his still-hard cock, now glistening with your mixed juices.

“Clean it…” His bottom lip twitched slightly, along with his eyebrow, taunting you as he breathed deeply. He pushed your limits, used you to his heart’s content, all because he could. Each little request a test to see if you’d break and disobey. But the moment your lips wrapped around him, his hands were back in your hair.

“Fuck— good girl,” the overstimulation made him groan, tightening his hold on your hair. You licked at him obediently, the taste salty on your tongue. He revered in the skill of your mouth, praising it as you worked. Every gag made him coo in a mocking tone and when you pulled off, he didn’t hesitate to take the reins. He took hold of his cock, his other hand in your hair, and dragged it over your cheek, across your face, a sick grin spreading across his lips as he watched you squeeze your eyes tightly so none of the mess would get there. He knew the smell would cling to your sweet skin, that was why he did it. He pulled back to look at his work.

The sight of your makeup ruined, cheeks stained, now with the added smell of him on you. Perfect. Carlos grinned, moving to tuck himself back in his suit pants.

“Now, that’s a pretty slut. Come on, let’s go…”

…

want more patrón!Carlos? lemme know in my askbox!! I plan on writing more for this AU and would love to know your thoughts on it<3

2024 @ gokyrts . Do not distribute or translate my work on other sites.

#carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #cs55 #gokyrts #patrón!carlos

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